Where the Lost Ones Go
by Writegirl
Summary: Eventual Snape Romance. According to International Wizarding Statistics, between 100 and 400 magical children are misplaced per year. While this number seems small, in relation to the relative size of the wizarding population it would amount to several t
1. Bippity boppity boo

Marian Elvbow blinked. It wasn't everyday someone appeared out of thin air less than five feet in front of you. If she leaned forward she could have brushed the man's shoulder with the tip of her nose. At least she assumed it was a man, despite the long hair that was brushing said shoulders. Oddly enough, he looked just as confused at being there as she was, whipping his head around a few times. He gave her a once over before finally finding what he was looking for, and darting into an old building. 

            Marian sighed, releasing the hand that was clutching her stomach and cursing the dull ache that had begun there. _Probably should have had lunch before going shopping_, she thought as she continued walking down the street. She stopped when she got in front of the shop, though. _The Leaky Cauldron_ was spelled out in faded letters above the door. Judging by the way the man was dressed, she assumed it was some kind of occult book store, just the kind of place she avoided at all times.  All the windows were opaque, no goods on display, nothing to catch the eye. Okay, not your normal store then.

            Another pang in her stomach made her wince. Yeah, she really should have eaten lunch before heading out. Marian decided that she would see if they sold any kind of food. Once she'd allowed a friend to drag her to _The Psychic Eye_, one of the larger 'new age' book stores in California, and she's had the best honey cakes there that she'd ever tasted. If she got something in her stomach, it might decide to let her live until she got everything she needed for dinner.

            The heavy door creaked as she opened it and slipped inside, and froze. Okay, definitely not a bookstore, she though to herself. It was smoky, with a fire going in a large fireplace across from a bar despite the heat of the afternoon. There were windows, but they were near the ceiling, which had to be a good fifteen feet up, and let in slanted shafts of light. A pub then, with some of the oddest people in it she'd ever seen.

            The man behind the bar looked normal enough, though his clothes seemed to be circa 1800. Everyone else was dressed just as strangely, and if it hadn't been the end of August, she would have sworn she'd just entered a Halloween party. And to make things stranger, they were all looking shocked at her, as if _she_ were the odd one.

            "Is there somethin' I ken help ye with?"

            The question jerked her out of the daze she'd gone into. Quickly, she looked around, but there was no sign of the man she'd followed.  "Ummm, no. I must have got the wrong door," leaving the sentence at that she turned to leave.

            The pain hit her low in the stomach, almost doubling her over. In desperation, Marian gripped the doorframe, trying to stay upright. 

            "Are ye all right, love?" A woman had come up to her, laying a gentle hand on her arm. 

            Marian shook her head, and began reaching blindly for her purse. She knew she'd packed those pills her doctor had given her before she went out. Her hands closed on the bottle as another bolt hit her, turning her knees to liquid.

            "Sillius!" the woman cried out. Marian tried to keep herself upright, but it wasn't happening. She started to pull away, not wanting to crush the small woman, but was surprised when a strong hand went under her arm. 

            "There ya go, miss. Nice 'en easy," she was guided to the bar, and sighed when she sat on one of the stools. Being off her feet helped.

            Some.

            "I have…to…to get my pills," she whispered, almost to herself as she dug frantically through the large bag she was carrying. She hadn't had an attack this bad in years. Finally, she felt the cool plastic of the bottle and pulled it out, trying to calm the shaking in her fingers so she could open it.

            "I'll get that," the barkeep said, taking the bottle before she could protest.

            "Thank you," Marian sighed, not noticing the man struggling with the childproof cap. She let her head sink onto the bar, grateful that the wood was cool beneath her forehead. The pain was receding on its own, just a little, but that little was paradise.

            "Is there anything we can do, dear?" The woman was next to her, probably looking at her with a mixture of concern and curiosity. A hand was running calmingly up and down her back, and she didn't care who it belonged too, as long as it didn't stop.

            "No," she shook her head without lifting it, feeling her skin drag against the wood. "I just have to take my medication."

            "What's going on?" someone asked. 

            "Some muggle's havin' a fit," someone whispered.

           Muggle? Before she could look up another spasm hit her, this one blurring her vision in its intensity. She let out a small squeak, and would have fallen off the stool if two hands hadn't reached out and steadied her. 

            "Two," she whispered, fighting to keep from crying as the tears tried to squeeze past her eyelids.

            "What? Oh, of these," she heard movement over the roaring in her ears, then looked up. Her pills were sitting in front of her, along with a tall glass of water. She looked around and saw him, the man she'd followed. He was looking at her with the same intensity she'd expect someone to have while examining an animal. Straightening, she reached for her pills, but never got them. Halfway there, she fainted.

            The occupants of the Leaky Cauldron were staring, stunned, as Tom and Jinks carried the woman upstairs to one of the rooms. It wasn't the fact that she'd passed out that had them stunned. It was the fact that, as soon as her hand brushed against the glass, it had exploded.

            "I thought she was a muggle," the voice sounded like it was coming from far away.

            "Thought she was," another voice answered. "No one comes in here not knowing why. And look at 'er clothes. Only muggles wear things like that. Petterwig was supposed to have people walking around London all week, checking to make sure everything was secure and we don't have any security breaches and what not. Maybe she's one a his."

            "Any idea what was wrong with her?"

            "No, tried to walk out, but started havin' some kind o' fit. Just kinda collapsed."

            What in the hell was a muggle, anyway? She thought she'd heard every term the British had for Americans, but apparently she was wrong.

            "Are you awake, now, miss?"

            Marian opened her eyes. The room she was in was dark, and she was lying on something that felt like a very soft bed. "Yeah, I'm awake. Where am I?"

            "A pub," was the short reply, and when her eyes focused she saw that the same man that she'd followed was sitting on the bed next to her, a rag in his hand. "You collapsed down stairs, so Tom and Sillius brought you here to rest," he set the rag in a bowl. "Are you one of Petterwig's people?"

            Marian blinked. Petterwig? "Petterwig? I don't know anyone named Petterwig. "Why do you ask?" she sat up, ignoring the pain that was still thudding dully in her stomach. At least it wasn't as bad as it had been. "Look, I was shopping and I ducked in here. What's with everyone down stairs? Are they some kind of club or something?"

            But the two weren't paying any attention to her. They were staring at each other with the same panicked expressions.  

            "Severus?" the other man said, backing away.

            The man in black nodded, before taking out a stick and pointing it at her. "_Ob_-"

            She didn't have time to steele herself, the pain hit so fast.  One moment she was sitting up, the next she had curled herself into a ball. Someone was trying to straighten her out, but she wasn't about to relax, not when it felt like someone was tearing her apart.

            "Professor maybe… Finnian in Diagon… just take a moment…"       

            Another pair of hands was helping the first, and she found herself stretched out on her back.

            "Nose bleed. Tom, hand me that rag."

            Marian reached up and wiped her nose, staring that the blood that coated her fingers. This was not good. "Call… an ambulance."

            When no one moved she tried to sit up again, but was stopped by a firm hand on her shoulder. "You need to rest-"

            Hissing, she pushed the hand away. "Purse?"

            The hemp bag was handed to her and she began rummaging through it, sighing in relief when she found her cell phone. "I have...to get to…hospital," she pressed the buttons, but nothing happened. She'd charged the phone last night, she knew she had…

            "Tom, contact the Ministry and tell them to send someone from Muggle Relations here immediately."

            "No, call an AMBULANCE!"

            A few candles, which had served as their only light, flared; the small flames reaching almost a foot in height before shrinking again.

            "You have to calm yourself before someone gets hurt!" The man in black, Severus, was yelling at her.

            "Don't tell me to calm down!" she yelled back, her pain fueling her anger. "I need to get to a hospital, can't you understand-"

            Whatever she was about to say had been cut off, because she'd passed out again.


	2. Welcome to the neighborhood

Severus Snape watched the _ambuelance_ men as they carried the woman to their vehicle. Several tubes were running from clear bags to her arms, and a clear mask was covering her nose and mouth. After passing out the second time she'd remained unconscious, a great relief for the both of them.

A man from the ministry was handling the _poleece_, answering their questions. No, they didn't know who she was, or why she was there. She just walked in off the street and started having some kind of fit. And then, after what seemed like ages, the Muggles were gone, minus a few small details like where the Leaky Cauldron actually was, what their names were, or how to contact them.

"It was close there, Severus, very close," Falcon, the ministry agent was saying now, wiping his head with a handkerchief. 

"Indeed. Was Petterwig using American's in his security tests, Falcon?"

Falcon, a short, stocky wizard with white-blond hair shook his head. "Not that I know of, all internal, if I'm right. Why do you ask?"

Snape crossed his arms. "That woman was using magic, Falcon, but acted like a Muggle to the end."

"Magic? Are you sure?"

Snape fought the urge to yell at the man. "Yes, I'm sure, or else I wouldn't have said anything. She's a magic user who's pretending to be a Muggle."

"Then why in the world would you have called me?"

"Because I assumed that if this was a test of some sort, the best thing would be to treat her as a Muggle."

"Er's 'er purse, professor," Tom said, handing the straw bag to him.

He pawed through the bag, but there was no magic paraphernalia, no wand, no powders of any kind. It took less than a minute to find some identification with her picture on it. "Marian Elvbow. An American."

Falcon took the small booklet and the purse. "I'll turn this over to the international department immediately. Last thing we need is to have a rogue witch running around, especially one from another country. Come now, I'm sure the head of the department would like a statement from you and Tom on what happened today. It's after one, so he should be back from lunch."

Severus Snape sighed as he, Tom, and Falcon Disapparated. And to think, all he wanted this morning was to restock his rat entrails.

____________________________________

It was the beeping that woke her up, as it usually did. The steady, _beep…beep…_ that all hospital machinery seemed to make. Every muscle she owned ached, and it felt like someone had shoved a few pillows into her head, she was so foggy. But one thing was clear. She must have had an attack. Again.

This was not good.

"Ah, you're awake," a nurse walked over to her, and started pushing buttons on the monitor. "How are you feeling?"

Marian moved her tongue around in her mouth, checking for the slightest bit of moisture. "Like shit," she finally croaked, staring at the ceiling. "Where am I?"

"St. Margarets, in London. Do you know your name?"

"Marian Elvbow."

The nurse smiled. "Good, then we can get rid of this _Jane Doe_. No one knew your name," The nurse looked at the bag attached to the drip. "Need to change that luv, be back in a jiffy."

Marian sighed with relief when the nurse left. After two years, she was back in a hospital after passing out…where had she been anyway? She remembered walking to the market to get some things, then deciding the day was too nice to waste and headed for Trafalgar.

After that… nothing.

_Jane Doe_. Someone must have stolen her purse then. She'd have to get her prescription refilled, which meant going to Dr. Almson again. _That _was an experience she wasn't relishing.

"So, you are awake," A cheerful voice said from the doorway.

The doctor, if that's who he was, was tall, almost too tall, and lanky, with olive skin and dark eyes. " I'm Dr. Simth. Nurse Byers called me. She tells me your name is Marian."

"Yeah," she tried to hide her apprehension. There were few things she disliked more than doctors.

The doctor smiled. " And your age?"

" 32."

He continued writing on the chart he held. "Good. I'll have her checking the name with our files now." He lowered the chart. "You don't sound like you're from London."

Marian started to sit up, wincing as pain lanced through her stomach. "No, I'm an American. Shit!" she let herself fall back. Her passport, her visa, everything that she needed was in that purse, and some bastard had stolen it. "I need a phone. I have to call the Embassy."

"Of course, but I need to ask you some questions first." Simth continued in a soothing tone. "You were brought in, unconscious, about seven hours ago. There is no sign of struggle, no sign of drugs. You did, however, have a rather severe nose bleed, and your vital signs were jumping all over our charts. Can you tell me what happened?"

Marian sighed again. She hated explaining things to doctors. " I have these spasms. I don't get them often, but when I do their terrible. Sometimes they cause me to pass out. Nose bleeds are a real bad sign," she sat up again, wincing as her stomach muscles protested once more. "Shriners hospital should have all my records. My number is 89736547."

"Excellent," he pressed the call button, and handed the paper he'd written on to the nurse. "Give this to Helga, please."

"Can I go home?" Marian asked, hopefulness filling her voice.

Dr. Simth looked shocked. "I'm afraid we can't release you yet, Ms Elvbow. The EMF personnel's report is very alarming. Your blood pressure was extremely high, and you were unresponsive to any stimuli for a long period of time. I'd like to keep you for twenty-four hours, for observation purposes. Is there anyone you should call?"

Marian shook her head. She didn't know anyone in London besides the landlady, and she doubted Berta would care if she came home or not. Thank God she'd feed Missy before going out this morning.

Whatever Dr. Simth said to her after that didn't seem to make sense. She was going to spend the night in the hospital, whether she wanted to or not.

Things just seemed to get worse and worse. 

_______________________________________________

"I understand there was some commotion at the Leaky Cauldron earlier today, Severus."

The potions professor turned around, and saw Professor Dumbledore, the Hogwarts headmaster, standing near his desk.

"Yes, a Muggle managed to find her way into the pub and started having some kind of fit," he answered, carefully filling a jar with willow extract.

"Cornelius Fudge told me something rather interesting about this," Dumbledore continued. "He said that you believed the Muggle was actually a witch in disguise."

Snape sighed. "I did, but I sensed no magic about her, except for a few moments. No one can mask themselves from another wizard, so I must have been mistaken." 

"Quite right, Severus. He did, however, give me these," the older man placed a familiar bag on his desk. "They were thoroughly examined by the ministry, and he wished me to inform you that there is no record of a Marian Elvbow in any of the ministry files both here and abroad, nor does her picture match that of any known witch."

Snape looked from the bag to the headmaster. "And what does Fudge want me to do with her belongings."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "At the moment, Ms Elvbow is in hospital, where she will be until tomorrow. She is currently being watched by one of the ministry's people who work there. When she returns home, Fudge would like you to deliver these to her, and find out as much as you can about her. Considering the times, we cannot have a rogue witch running loose."

Snape couldn't believe his ears. They wanted him to get close to some Muggle woman? "With all due respect, Headmaster, wouldn't someone from the ministry be a better pick for a job such as this. The term begins in two days, and I have much to prepare."

"They are not asking you to take yourself away from your work, Severus. You spent the most time with her, and they believe she will not find it amiss if you were to return her belongings. All they ask is that you discover as much as you can in one visit. If you believe that she is worth putting under observation, or that there is no need for such, then they will take that under advisement. Oh, and they sent these," the headmaster pulled out a black bundle and set it next to the bag. "I understand that these will help you to blend in."

Snape watched Dumbledore leave, wishing he'd simply gone into Diagon Alley and left it at that. If he had, he wouldn't be in the present situation. Growling in frustration, he walked over to the parcel and opened it. It was a pair of black slacks and a black sweater.

This day couldn't possibly get any worse.

_____________________________________________

Marian took a deep breath when the door to her apartment closed behind her and dropped the paper bag she was carrying on the credenza. Her day had been terrible. She'd already canceled her credit cards from the hospital, but she'd still had to go to the Embassy and wait in line for over five hours before she was seen. And now she had to wait for her new passport and visa to be issued, which meant that until she did she couldn't access her accounts, pay bills, or do anything else. And to make matters worse, the minute she stepped out of the Embassy it started raining, and since she didn't have an umbrella she was drenched through.

"Hey Miss," she called into the bedroom, where her python Missy was curled up on the bed. She heard the distinct thump of over eighty pounds of snake falling on the floor, and watched her slither into the kitchen. If Mrs. Henderson knew that Missy spent more time out of her cage than in it, they'd both  be out on their ass in about five seconds flat. But she hated seeing Missy locked up behind  glass, unable to move around. 

"Don't tell me you missed me?" she said as she felt the nine-foot snake curl around her ankle, the nose rubbing tenderly against the vein there. "'Course you didn't. I fed you before I left, so you've just been sitting pretty, haven't you?"

Seemingly offended, the snake released her ankle and began curling around a bar that she'd set up that stretched from the floor to the ceiling allowing the snake to get onto the counters. Marian opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of red wine while reaching for a glass. She definitely needed some assistance unwinding after being stuck in a hospital for a day and a half.

"You have any idea how hard it is to get vicodin out of a doctor when you just got your prescription filled a week ago, Missy?" she asked as she filled the wine glass. "Damn hard!" she answered when the snake only looked at her. She raised her glass. "To doctors, long may they reign." 

She was halfway through her second glass, fresh out of the bathtub, and considerably more relaxed, when there was a series of sharp knocks on her door. The clock on the mantle read 9:14, too late for door-to-door salesmen. Damn, just when she was beginning to get comfortable…

"All right! Keep your panties on!" She yelled when the knocks were repeated, much louder this time. Grumbling, and checking to make sure Missy was out of sight, the looked through the peephole. A man was standing there, looking nervously around. "What do you want?" she called through the door.

" I have something of yours," he replied, holding up her bag.

Without hesitating, she threw open the door. The man, whoever he was, was dressed in black from head to foot. "Do I know you?"

"I'm one of the people who helped you the other day in the pub."

Pub? She didn't remember a pub. "Well, thanks for returning my bag. Good night." She was about the close the door when he spoke up.

"If you wouldn't mind, do you have a towel?" The man asked. "I'm afraid I'm soaked."

Marian looked him up and down. His hair was plastered to his head, and a small puddle was forming at his feet, not only that, but she swore he was starting to shiver. "Sure, come on in." 

The stranger walked into her apartment, and Marian thanked whatever power made her choose her baggy flannels instead of her usual tee-shirt and boxers. "I'll get you a towel, Mr?"

"Snape," was the short reply. "Severus Snape."

She blinked, but didn't say anything. "Marian Elvbow. Thanks for bringing this back," she held up the bag. While she acted like she was searching for a towel she went through her bag. Everything, from her money to her visa, was still there. So the guy couldn't have been half bad.  That settled, she grabbed a bath towel and headed to the living room, and froze.

Severus was standing in a corner, staring down Missy, who had reared and was watching him with barely restrained hostility. "God-damnit, Missy, lay off him!" Marian shrieked, stomping into the room.

Missy in turn swung around and glared at her.

"I said NOW!" Marian pointed behind her. "Bedroom. Go!"

Reluctantly, but not before getting in a parting hiss, the python lowered herself to the floor and slithered into the bedroom, deliberately bumping against Marian and knocking her slightly off balance. 

Marian handed him the towel, smiling sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Mr. Snape. Damn snake has a mind of her own."

Despite the fact that he'd come very close to being attacked by a large animal, Snape seemed for the most part rather calm."Quite all right. I found her…fascinating." He scrubbed his hair fiercely with the towel. The drenching had been his idea, in the vain hope that she wasn't as coarse as she'd come off at the Leaky Cauldron and actually had manners enough to invite him in. So far, it was working perfectly. "She's a Burmese, am I right? Where did you get her?"

"Actually, she got me two years ago." Marian watched him dry off. "Found her on the walk one morning. Never had the heart to give her to a pet shop. If I knew how much trouble she'd get into, I'd have put her down before I got attached."

Severus looked up. "Does she always do what she's told?"

"Not unless she knows she's in deep shit, which is often." Marian gave him another once over. The man was really soaked, and the thick sweater he was wearing had to be dripping at least a gallon of water on Mrs. Henderson's hard wood floor. "You should get out of those clothes," she said, starting back towards her bedroom. She thought she had some sweats and an old army tee shirt that might fit him.

            "I'm quite all right, thank you," Severus answered, unsure of what to do now. It would seem odd if he refused her help in getting dry, considering that he was dripping from anywhere he could at the moment. 

            Marian shrugged. "At least let me hang your sweater up in the bathroom. There's a hot lamp in there, so it should be dry in no time."

            The potions master acquiesced and stripped off the heavy sweater, thankful he'd chosen to wear one of his shirts underneath.

            "There's a heater in the corner," she called from further in the apartment.

            Snape looked around and saw a small gray contraption with a long black cord leading to a wall sitting in the far corner, and thought better of it. He touched his wand and uttered a simple drying spell, taking away the worst of his discomfort.

             Well," Marian said when she returned. "Now that you've been threatened by my snake, I guess this makes you an official guest. Would you like something to drink? Water? Soda? Wine?"

"Wine, thank you."

Marian headed for the kitchen, ignoring the twinges in her stomach. What the hell was with her lately? It hadn't been this bad since she moved out of Surrey. "Red or white?"

"Red."

As she poured another glass she tried to remember a pub. She vaguely remembered walking into someplace cool, then waking up in a dark room with someone sitting next to her. I might have been him, but she couldn't recall the person's face. All she really remembered was wishing that the spasm would hurry up and pass.

            Severus watched the woman walk into her kitchen, grateful that he'd managed to find the right place. Her living quarters contained nothing especially eye catching, nothing that called to him.  She was medium height, with medium length brown hair, medium build, with dull gray eyes. In fact there was nothing extraordinary about her that he could detect, no magical aura, nothing. Clearly, he'd wasted his evening on the Ministries wild goose chase. Hopefully he would be back at Hogwarts within the hour. The students would be arriving the next night, and there was still much to prepare for. 

He walked casually around the apartment. It wasn't large, with what he assumed was a single bedroom and bathroom at the end of a short hallway. There was, however, a large bookcase that was filled to bursting with several different books. _The Magic of Chinese Medicine, Healing Herbs, The Path to Herbal Health, Magical Plants and their Properties_ were just a few of the titles concerning botany. There were several books concerning the martial arts and others that weren't nearly as interesting. At the window there were several large pots, all filled to overflowing with plants, most of which he recognized for the healing properties, among other things. Others were spread throughout the apartment, or strung along the walls. All of them looked healthy and well cared for. 

"Do you like plants, Mr. Snape?"

He turned. She was standing behind him, glass extended. "I have an interest. Your collection is quite impressive. That's mandrake, if I'm not mistaken, as well as foxglove and belladonna," he said, pointing to several pots that were nestled on the window sill.

"Um, yeah." Marian took a drink. "You're not supposed to grow them, so I'd appreciate you not mentioning it to anyone, okay?"

Severus smiled to himself. "Then why, might I ask, are you growing them?"

"Personal."

"Illegal?"

Marian smiled. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you."

Snape watched her for a moment before deciding that she was only joking. "Do you study botany professionally, Ms. Elvbow?"

She looked shocked. "More like a hobby, Mr. Snape. Plants are fascinating. And you?"

"Chemistry," he answered, assuming it was close enough to what he actually did.  Severus reached into his pocket, fingering the small phial of Veritaserum that he'd bought as a last resort. He'd found more questions than answers in this visit, and too much depended on him to leave so many unanswered questions. 

"Missy! Room, now!"

The command interrupted his thoughts. The python had returned, and was currently trying to sneak past Marian. Now _she_ was magical, if the slight aura she had was any indication, and she didn't like his presence at all. While Marian was herding her pet, he let one drop of the clear liquid fall into her glass. In a few minutes he would have all the information they needed to either forget the woman, or bring her in to be dealt with by the Counsel.

"I'm sorry, I just don't know what's gotten into her. You don't keep rats as pets, do you?"

Snape smiled. "Not exactly, no." 

The woman looked genuinely confused. "It's not like her to just go after someone. She's usually very people-friendly."

Snape shrugged. "I have never had much luck with animals, I'm sorry to say." _Drink already!_

"Guess she just doesn't like you," she took a long drink. "Your name, I was wondering…where…you…" she trailed off, staring blankly in front of her.

Finally. Snape set his glass down on the table. "Now. Your name."

"Marian Elvbow."

"Where were you born?"

"I don't know."

That gave him pause. "You don't know?"'

            "No."

            Curious. "Why not?'

            "I was found on a road in Arizona a few days after I was born. There were no papers with me."

            Interesting, but not relevant to what he needed to know. "Are you a witch?"

Her face scrunched for a moment. "Witches don't exist."

"What happened at the Leaky Cauldron yesterday?"

"I wasn't at the Leaky Cauldron," Confusion ghosted across her features.

"Yes you were." Snape pushed.  "It's a pub in Trafalgar."

"I wasn't there."

Severus raised an eyebrow. She wasn't lying, she couldn't be. So either she didn't know the name of the pub, or she didn't remember. "What did you do yesterday?"

"I woke up and had toast for breakfast. I fed Missyla, showered, got dressed and went out to do some shopping because I needed to get bread for dinner. I decided to walk around and had an attack somewhere in Trafalgar. Someone called an ambulance and I woke up in the hospital, where I spent the rest of the night."

"And today?"

"I woke up, had a physical and spoke with Dr Simth, who refilled my prescription and released me. I went to the pharmacy to get my prescription and I spent the rest of the morning and afternoon at the Embassy trying to get another passport and work visa. I stopped at McDonalds, and came home. I had a glass of wine, took a bath, and got dressed. Then you came and-"

"All right. What is the nature of these attacks?"

She frowned. "I don't know. None of the doctors have been able to tell me what causes them, so they just give me medicine to deal with the pain."

Fair enough. "Why do you study botany?"

"Because the drugs my doctors have me on keep me from functioning, and I've lost two jobs because of it. Homeopathic remedies are supposed to work just as well without having so many side effects."

That wasn't surprising. From what little he'd studied of Muggle medicine they were hopeless with their cures. Most of them did more harm than good to a person. "What jobs did you loose?"

"A teaching position in Surrey four years ago, and as office assistant two years ago."

There was the sound of something breaking, and Snape looked up. The wine glass he'd been using had shattered, spilling the red liquid over the small coffee table. Something else in the kitchen broke, and the windowpane behind him splintered, the glass still intact but honeycombed. He could feel it now, misty tendrils that came from the woman in front of him that snaked through the room, licking at the furniture and walls. She was using magic again. "How are you doing this?"

"I don't know."

Snape looked at her closely. A fine sheen of sweat was covering her, and her eyes appeared more vacant than they should have been. She was cold to the touch, and small lines were starting to appear around her mouth and eyes. "Are you in pain?"

"Hell yes."

Snape sighed. Professor Dumbledore would definitely not be pleased with him when he showed up with this woman in tow, but it couldn't be avoided. She was having an abnormal reaction to the potion, and if he left her she might die.

Cursing silently, lifted the woman under the arms, and paused when a loud hiss sounded. Missy was watching him with murderous eyes, looking ready to strike. She'd managed to get out of a closed room, proving his theory that she had some magic in her.

"If I don't help her she'll die. I'll send someone for you later."

Missy wasn't pleased, and wrapped herself around her mistress's leg.

"Fine. Hagrid will take care of you," with that, the trio Disapparated.

Thanks for reading!!!! Special cheery topped thanks goes out to Vegeta Jr and koku for their reviews!!!!!


	3. Hogwarts

"This was not what we had discussed, Severus."

            Albus Dumbledore was _not_ pleased, if his voice was any indication of his present mood. The fact that his eyes were missing their usual twinkle was the second give away.

            Currently, the two of them were standing in the infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey was fluttering around her new patient. The headmaster and Hagrid had met him in Hogsmead. Hagrid had cooed over the python from the moment he saw it, and had decided to make her his new pet. It was a good thing too, because Snape had the distinct impression that the thrice damned snake was waiting for the right moment to eat him. At the moment she was curling around the large gamekeeper, slithering in and out of his coat as if she owned him.

            "I understand that, Professor, but I didn't think she would respond this way to the potion. No one should. Besides, this is the best place for someone like her."

            Before Dumbledore could ask why several beakers in the room shattered, followed by a sigh from Madam Pomfrey.

            "I believe she is a witch, but untrained."

            "And as such Hogwarts would be the best place for her." Dumbledore tilted his head. "Are you all right, Madam Pomfrey?"

            The nurse sighed heavily. "Fine, Professor Dumbledore, but my beakers aren't. Every last one of the over here is broken."

            "And Ms Elvbow?"

            "Asleep, thank goodness, though I don't know how much good it's doing her."

            Dumbledore and Snape walked over to the bed. She was asleep, but she was still pale and sweaty, her muscles twitching slightly in the dim light. "Can you do nothing for her pain?" The headmaster asked, his voice full of concern. There was little doubt in his mind that the woman laying before him was suffering from something.

            "I've tried," Madam Pomfrey wiped Marian's forehead with a damp towel. "I've done all I can for the moment. Hopefully she'll start to recover in a few hours. And you," she glared daggers at Snape. "You should know better than to give anything to an unknown muggle! That potion could have killed her! It still might!"

            Snape didn't look contrite in the least. "We needed to know everything about her we could. I did what I believed was necessary."

            Before the two of them could sink into an argument, Dumbledore intervened. "I will tell the Ministry what you have discovered at once. As Hagrid has taken a liking to her pet, it seems that for the moment you have only your classes to worry about."

            Snape nodded and followed Dumbledore out of the infirmary. Hopefully, things would be returning to normal very soon. He turned and looked back at the door. "I trust your expertise will prevent any lasting damage, Poppy."

            The nurse looked at him. "So do I." She looked down at Marian, laying a soft hand on her forehead. "You're right though, she shouldn't have reacted this way at all."

            Snape headed back to his dungeon, fighting down the remorse that was threatening to surface. Having another death on his hands was the last thing he looked forward too this year. After another moment he corrected himself. That wasn't the last thing.

            The last thing was dealing with a gaggle of self-righteous Gryffindors. At  least one of those disasters could be avoided.

            He hoped.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

            "What do you suppose is wrong with Snape?"

           Ron and Harry glanced at Professor Snape, who was sitting staring into his plate. "What do you mean?" The red head asked, taking a long drink of his juice.

            Hermione sighed. "He hasn't eaten or drunk anything all night. He looks occupied or something."

            Ron snorted. "Probably wondering how to torture us tomorrow. Thank goodness he didn't get the Defense Against the Dark Arts class this year too. Could you imagine having that man twice a day?"

            They all looked to the woman sitting next to Snape, a tall blond who was to be their fifth professor in as many years.

            "Do you think she's any good?" Ron asked.

            "I don't know, Ron. They have been getting better at picking people, haven't they?  I mean, Professor Lupin was great, and Professor Moody was good-"

            "Except that wasn't really Moody," Harry finished, not looking up from his roast beef.

            "And who do you think this 'guest' is supposed to be."

            At the beginning of the feast Dumbledore had warned them that they would more than likely have a guest that year at Hogwarts, but he didn't elaborate before beginning the feast. Every table was buzzing with rumors on who the guest was supposed to be.

            "I don't know, but I'm sure we'll find out soon enough," Hermione answered.

            Ron clapped Harry on the back. "Sure we will. You know how well secrets keep around this place, even the really important ones."

            Harry sighed. He knew that all too well. 

            Marian jerked awake. Someone had to be pouring acid onto her stomach. It felt like she was lying on a hospital bed, but she was definitely not in a hospital. There were no machines, no beeping, and the room didn't smell like antiseptic. In fact, she'd never been in a room like this before in her life. It was huge, with several beds lined up along the walls, the ceiling so tall it was lost in the gloom.

            Another spasm hit, and she rolled out of bed. How the hell did she get here? The last thing she remembered was having a glass of wine with someone. What was his name? Severe? Septimus? Where the hell had he taken her? Some kind of castle? The floor beneath her was uneven and rough, almost like cobblestones.

            "I'll kill him. If I find him I'll kill that son of a bitch," she muttered. She had to move, she had to get out of here, get away. She was in no condition to deal with anyone, especially not a man at least twice her size.

            She made her way unsteadily to what she assumed was the entrance. The doors of the room were huge, and thankfully unlocked. She pushed them open and checked the hall. Whoever owned this place seriously needed help. There were actual torches lining the walls, all currently lit and flickering happily. She began sliding down the hallway, leaning heavily on the walls since her legs were about to give out on her. She was covered in sweat. She could feel it trickling down her back, making the stones beneath her feet slippery.

            "Are you all right?"

            Marian jumped. She looked up and down the hallway, but no one was there.

            "I say, can you hear me?"

            It was a girl, whoever it was. There was nowhere for her to hide, so who in the hell was talking?

            "Up here, lady."

            Marian looked up. There was a rather large picture on the wall behind her of a young woman sitting on a blanket in the middle of green field. The girl was… was…

            Moving.

            "Not again. No No No," Marian gasped as the woman stood up and walked closer to her, her clothes swaying in a light breeze.

            "Are you all right? Should I send for someone?"

            "NO!" Marian ran, not caring that she was scraping her side along the wall. She half tripped down a short flight of stairs and collapsed, trying to get her bearings. Two hallways lead away from the staircase, with nothing to distinguish either. She took the one on the left, and shivered as a blast of cold air went past. She was shaking, but she didn't care. She was not crazy. There was no way that picture could be talking to her. Her vision was blurring again, and the pain in her stomach was spreading throughout her torso and legs. She didn't know if she'd be able to get up, but she tried. She eventually climbed to her feet, and started to half run, half fall down the hall. There was whispering around her, a constant rolling that came from over her head. It was coming from the pictures, she knew it was. They were talking to her. 

            "Miss?"

            "I say, madam! Do you need help?"

            "What's wrong with her?"

            _Pictures can't talk. You know they can't. You're just having another episode. Remember what the doctors told you, it's all in your head.  If you can find your meds it'll all stop. They'll all go away. You have to find _him_, he knows what's going on here. You are not crazy. You're not!_

            The pain was getting worse. It felt like something was trying to split her in half. 

            "Madam. Do you need help?"

            This voice was right in front of her. She looked up.

            And saw a ghost.

            It was a man, dressed like some kind of nobleman, with a heavy frill under his chin.

            "I'm Sir Nicholas, madam. Are you in need of assistance?"

            "You're not real," she whispered, shaking her head. "You're not real."

            The ghost laughed. "I assure you madam. I am quite real. Do you need help? Are you trying to reach the Great Hall?"

            Marian tried to back away, but she slipped and landed hard, hitting her head on the stones. Her nose was bleeding again, but she didn't care. "It's not real," she sobbed, curling into a ball. "It's not."

            "What's going on?"

            Hermoine nodded to the professors tables, and Ron and Harry turned around. The Bloody Baron was talking to Dumbledore, and they could tell, even this far away, that he was worried. He motioned to Snape and Hagrid. Madam Pomfrey got up also, and all four left through the door behind the tables. 

            "I don't know," Ron answered. "It must be big, though. I don't think I've ever seen Dumbledore look that worried, except when you reappeared last year after the tournament."

            Harry shivered. What happened last semester during the Triwizard Tournament was something he didn't like remembering.

            Without speaking, the three got up and headed for the Great Hall's doors, and once they got outside broke into a flat run. They caught sight of the foursome running down one of the corridors, Hagrid's heavy footfalls echoing around them. Whatever was happening, it was serious.

            They slowed down when they heard the sound of crying. They'd obviously found the source of the problem. "Is she all right?" That was Snape, Harry knew that voice anywhere. He actually sounded…concerned? Carefully they looked around a corner.

            Nearly-Headless Nick and the Bloody Baron were floating above Dumbledore, Snape and Hagrid. Madam Pomfrey was kneeling over someone who was curled into a ball on the floor.

            "Is she hurt?" Professor Dumbledore's voice carried to them.

            "She's got a goose egg coming up on the back of her head, and her nose is bleeding too much for my liking," Madam Pomfrey answered. "Hagrid, please. We need to get her back to the infirmary."

            Hagrid kneeled down and picked the person up without effort. They caught sight of one pale foot before the games keeper turned towards them. The woman was clutching Hagrid's beard like she wouldn't let go, but he didn't see to mind. He went past them without a word, Madam Pomfrey at his shoulder. Harry caught one fleeting look at the woman before she passed. He couldn't believe it…

            "What are you three doing here?"

            Professor Snape sounded livid, and Harry didn't have to turn around to know the man was looking daggers at the three of them, but especially at Harry. He'd had it in for him ever since he arrived at Hogwarts five years ago. Hermione and Ron seemed to attract the potions master's ire simply through association.

            "We were just walking back to the Great Hall from the bathrooms," Hermione said quickly. "We heard someone crying."

            "I know her," Harry blurted out.

            This caught the attention of both professors.

            "How do you know her, Harry?" Professor Dumbledore asked calmly.

            Harry blinked. "She was my teacher for a few months before I started at Hogwarts. English Composition. She left near the middle of the term. Ms. Elvbow."

            Professor Snape and Dumbledore looked at each other. "Do you know why she left, Harry?"

            Harry thought for a moment. Why had she left? She'd been a good teacher, impartial, and passed out the best chocolate he'd had till then. "Medical reasons, I think. Why is she here?"

            Dumbledore sighed. "Ms Elvbow is the guest I spoke of at dinner tonight. I trust that the three of you will not spread this knowledge to the rest of the school?" he added that with his customary twinkle, though there was steel behind his words.

            "No, professor," the three answered almost in sync.

           The old wizard smiled. "Good. I will ask the same of you two as well."  he added, looking pointedly at Nick and the Baron, both of whom nodded solemnly. That settled Dumbledore started down the hall. "Come Severus, I believe the young lady in question will be calmer in your presence."

            Hermione, Ron, and Harry watched the two start down the hallway.

            "Please, you have to calm down!"

            Snape blinked when he walked into the infirmary. Both Hagrid and Madam Pomfrey were standing a good distance away from Marian, displaying all the caution of a dragon trainer with a new fire breather. Marian had one hand clutching her stomach; the other held a beaker aloft, ready to throw it at either of them.

            Madam Pomfrey took a step forward. "Miss, please. I'm a nurse and you're obviously sick-"

            "Get the hell away from me!" she yelled, throwing a beaker before picking up another one.

            "Please miss, we're only tryin ta help ya," Hagrid said softly, holding both his hands in front of him.

            Snape walked forward. Hopefully a familiar face would calm her down. "Ms. Elvbow, please-"

            "Where the hell have you taken me!?"

            Snape wasn't prepared for the feeling of something hitting him in the solar plexus, almost knocking him off his feet. Another one followed the first one, catching him in the stomach.

            "Madam, I must ask you to calm down," Dumbledore said, stepping in front of him to allow him time to recover. Snape rubbed at the sore spot forming on his chest. She was untrained, but she had power, of that he was certain, and at the moment it was focused on him.

            "I am NOT going to calm down! Who are you people? Where am I?"

            Dumbledore started moving slowly towards her. "You're at a school, Ms. Elvbow, perfectly safe. Now, please put that down and we'll talk further."

            For an old man, the headmaster could certainly move when necessary. She launched another beaker at him full speed, and he ducked with time to spare. "Go to hell!"

            Finally Dumbledore took out his wand. "_Patrifi-" _

            The scream was punctuated with the sound of glass shattering around the infirmary. If Snape didn't know better, he'd think someone was killing her. By the time the high pitched hum that punctuated the scream ended Marian was backed against a wall, looking like a cornered tiger, clutching a piece of broken glass so hard blood had started to drip from her hand and pool on the floor. She looked dazed, yet fully prepared to strike out if necessary.

            "Please, Ms.-"

            "Ms. Elvbow?"

            Snape turned around. Potter, Granger, and Weasly were standing behind them. Both Granger and Weasly looked afraid, but Potter looked more…determined.

            "Ms. Elvbow, do you remember me?"

            Slowly, the boy walked past him, and over to the woman. "It's me, Harry. I was one of your students."

            "Harry?" she looked confused, eyes darting from them to Harry as he walked closer. "Harry Potter? What are you doing here?"

            "It's all right," he continued in the same soothing voice. "They're trying to help you, Ms. Elvbow. They wont hurt you."

            Snape could have shouted in relief as some of the fear went out of the woman's eyes. She still looked wary, but the hand that held the glass shard had lowered slightly. "Promise?" her voice was small, almost like that of child.

            "Promise," he was standing right in front of her by the time he looked at her hand. "Can I have that?"

            Marian looked at her hand as if noticing it for the first time, then turned the blood-streaked glass over to the boy guiltily. 

            "I'll help ya back ta bed then," Hagrid said, picking her up without effort and carrying her a short distance to one of the beds. Madam Pomfrey was already there, with solution and bandages ready. "Here, dear," she said, handing her a glass. "This will help you sleep."

            As she drank the thick liquid she continued to stare with an expression of total blankness, not even wincing at what Snape knew was a harsh, bitter flavor. For some reasons, he'd rather her anger than this detached complacence. It reminded him of a sleepwalker. Within seconds her eyes were fluttering, and she was asleep.

            Dumbledore seemed to deflate as a soft snore echoed from the bed. "Professor Snape, if you will, please walk Ms. Granger, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley back to the Great Hall and return with Professors Calafas, and Flitwick."

            Snape nodded and without a backwards glance walked past them. "Come on," he said shortly.

            "Will she be all right?" he heard Potter ask.

            "We will see, Harry. Please go with Professor Snape."

            Snape walked back to the Hall trying to keep his apprehension from showing. Something was wrong with that woman, and he had the sneaking suspicion they had a very short amount of time to find out what.

            By the time the three professors returned it was apparent the house elves had been busy. Every speck of broken glass had been swept away, and the cabinet that housed Madam Pomfrey's beakers was once again full, Marian occupying the bed furthest from it. Hagrid had taken up station at the woman's bedside, one of her hands lost in his as Dumbledore and Pomfrey spoke a short distance away.

            "Oh my," Calafas whispered, brushing past him and going to the bed. "How long has she been this way, Madam Pomfrey?"

            "She's been unconscious for a few minutes now, Professor Calafas." The nurse answered. "I hoped you would be able to help discern what is wrong with her."

            The woman nodded, and began running her hands slowly over Marian's body, starting at her head and working down.

            "Who is she, Albus?" Professor Flitwick asked.

            The headmaster glanced briefly at Snape before starting. "She is someone who walked quite accidentally into our world, though I am now certain that she should have been a part of it from the start. She is the woman who walked into the Leaky Cauldron yesterday."

            Flitwick looked surprised. "I thought that woman was a muggle."

            "So did we, but it seems Severus discovered otherwise."

            Snape fought the urge to blush. It hadn't been his intention to cause this kind of mess when he was sent to the woman. 

            "Ah!"

            They all turned to Gillian Calafas, who was standing with both her hands hovering over the unconscious woman's stomach.  She moved them closer slowly, as if fighting against some unseen force before pulling them away as if from a fire.

            "Nasty stuff, that," she said, shaking out her hands. "Someone's put a curse on her, that's for certain." She shook her head. "It's an old one, too, from what I can tell."

            "Can you lift it, Professor?" Albus asked.          

            Calafas shook her head. "Not until we figure out what kind of curse it is," she sighed, and her Irish accent became more noticeable in her worry. "I've never come across somethin' like this before. And even if we figure it out, I'm sure I wont be able to do this alone."

            "Very well then. Professor's, I'd like to enlist your aid in helping this woman. Until then, Madam Pomfrey, I'll ask that you keep her asleep at all times."

            The nurse nodded. "I'll make sure Lena and Sara know." Lena and Sara were two seventh years that were studying medicinal magic first hand. "Lady Alberta, will you alert me if she starts to wake?"

            The transparent figure of Alberta, one of the previous head nurses floated down from a portrait. "Certainly, Poppy."

            " And I can assume that you will be handling her pet Missy, Hagrid?"

            Hagrid nodded. "Right nice snake she is too. She's stayin' in me cabin for the time bein'"

            "Severus?" Snape returned his attention to Dumbledore. "I'm going to place a rather cumbersome burden on  you for the time being. You have still had the most contact with her, and I feel you could be of great assistance in dealing with her."

            Snape snorted. "Trying to get her to kill me, Headmaster?"

            That damnable twinkle returned at his words. "Nothing of the sort. She focused on you because you were known to her. A familiar face, no matter how disliked, would be better than a sea of strangers."

            Severus nodded, if only to save himself the trouble of fighting a losing battle. No one won against Dumbledore when his mind was set on something, and at the moment it was set on him being this woman's guardian.

            As if he didn't have enough problems already.

            "Now that that's settled, I suggest each of us retire for the night," Professor Dumbledore said. The professors were filing out when Severus heard Pomfrey say quietly. "There's something I think you should see, Headmaster." 

            Dumbledore walked to the bed while Severus waited near the door. At the moment he had no inclination to be anywhere near the quick-tempered, violent young woman, even if she was unconscious.

            "Look," Gently, she turned over the limp hand, and even from that distance he could feel Dumbledore's surprise.

            Albus pushed his glasses up as Madam Pomfrey turned their guest's arm over. There were several horizontal scars along the woman's wrist, and one that traveled the length of her arm from wrist to elbow.

            "Hagrid," Dumbledore took the bandaged hand and examined it. Identical markings were on this arm was well. They were pale and slightly raised. Clearly they had once been formidable injuries. "I can assume that these are self inflicted, Poppy?"

            The nurse nodded. " They're too much alike to be accidental, and I doubt someone would do this to another person."

            Dumbledore sighed. "It appears our guest becomes more of an enigma the longer she stays," he laid her hand gently by her side. "Are you planning on staying here, Hagrid? I understand you have an interesting lesson planned for the Care of Magical Creatures classes tomorrow."

            The half-giant looked slightly abashed. Snape knew that Hagrid hated seeing anyone or anything in pain, and would try his hardest to fix whatever he thought was wrong. "Just for a minute, Professor Dumbledore. Thought I'd tell 'er how 'appy Missy is an all."


	4. this wasnt in the job description

            "Are you here to learn or to daydream, Potter!"

            Harry jumped. It was the second time Snape had caught him drifting off since class began.

            "Ten more points from Gryffindor. If it happens again it will be fifty."

            Harry sighed and began copying down what Snape had written on the board, ignoring the snickering of the Slytherins behind him. They were dealing with healing potions today, specifically how to create potions that worked through ingestion rather than contact with a wound. Snape had pressed that when dealing with internal injuries it was necessary for potions to be 'intelligent', or able to discern what the damage was and how to repair it without causing more damage. In his opinion it was a little too complicated for the third day of classes.  From what he could remember this was a lot more complicated than anything they had done the year before, and involved a completely different set of preparations.

            "Now, once you have this copied down, I want you to begin preparing your ingredients. Remember that the asphodel must be of uniform size and shape before adding it to the entrails, and that you can add it only after the entrails and crushed tanis root have been simmering for half an hour. Do you understand that, Mr. Longbottom?"

            Neville's muttered, "Yes Professor," was lost in snickering, and Harry wished that the Slytherins would grow up.

            "Now then, while you're waiting for the entrails to begin simmering, you should begin crushing the nightshade blossoms. Those are the corpse gray ones Longbottom! If I'd wanted roses I would have asked for them! Five points from Gryffindor for your inattention." 

            He heard the sound of glass clinking together, and he knew Neville had dropped something. Even after the Boggart training, Neville was petrified of Snape, who seemed to take delight in terrorizing him to no end.

            "Now, if you use more than six petals your potion will not work, and keep in mind that I will be choosing a person to be injured to make sure your potions were brewed properly," he sneered. "As the headmaster is loath to let me injure you in a way serious enough to demonstrate the true power of your potions, I can inflict only minor damage."

            Harry knew that the 'person' to be chosen would be him. Whenever Snape wanted a guinea pig, it was him, especially if it might cause pain. Once he'd picked Simon, a Hufflepuff, to try Hermione's Moon-eye potion for increasing your night vision. If he'd known that Simon would be forced to walk around almost blind for the rest of the day because the potion hadn't been brewed at the right temperature he would have no doubt chosen him for that too.

            As Harry crushed his nightshade he thought about Ms Elvbow. He'd asked Hagrid about her the day before, and the gamekeeper told him that she was still in the infirmary. It made him sad to think that she was sick. When she was his teacher she'd thrown a birthday party once a month, whether any of her students were born in that month of not. She said she was making up for the people who were born over the summer or winter breaks. She even gave out presents. His had been a pen that lit up blue whenever you pressed the button on the top. His uncle made him give it to Dudley when his cousin had demanded one.

            "I think those petals are done, Potter, don't you?"

            Harry looked down. The nightshade petals were done, all right: they were almost a paste. Amazingly enough, Snape didn't dock points from him for it. Blushing, he dumped the contents into his cauldron. A puff of sweet smelling smoke curled up, mingling with the other smells in the room.

            "Think he'll pick you?" Ron asked forty minutes later. Snape was currently walking around, examining everyone's potions before choosing the testers.

            "When doesn't he?" Harry asked. 

            "Potter, front of the class, now! Malfoy, we will be testing your potion."

            Harry grimaced. Knowing Draco, he'd probably screwed up everything in the hope that he'd be able to make Harry miserable. In fact, he was looking too pleased with himself by half as he watched Snape take out a long, sharp dagger.

            "Don't move," he said, pulling up Harry's sleeve. He winced as the dagger was drawn with deliberate slowness down his hand, making a long cut down the middle of his palm.

            "All right, Malfoy. One stopper full should do it."

            Grinning, the blond pulled up some of the liquid, which glimmered gold in the room's dim light. At least it looked the right color. 

            "Ready Potter?" he asked as he squirted the liquid into a waiting vial. Harry rolled his eyes as he took the vial from the stand. He braced himself as he tipped the contents into his mouth. 

            Cinnamon. That was his first impression of the liquid as he touched his tongue. 

            Fire was the next.

            Harry fought the urge to spit the potion out, all over Snape's immaculate robes. He settled for a dry gag that almost doubled him over, a move that didn't even make the professor flinch. A murmur of surprise traveled through the class as the fire, less intense now, moved down his throat and stomach without slowing. When it hit what had to be his innards the fire spread outward everywhere. He saw a glint in his cheeks and looked down as bright light moved beneath his skin, following the veins to the cut.  For a moment Harry thought that Malfoy had actually done something decent when the burning continued. He watched in horror as the light seeped into the cut. The veins on his hand began to stand out, and the whole was turning a dark, odd brown.

            Without saying anything Snape walked to the wall behind his desk and took down a bottle of green, glowing liquid. The dark brown mass on Harry's hand was moving up his arm, and had become so painful that tears were trying to seep from his eyes by the time the professor had poured a small amount of the potion on the cut.

            "Sorry Potter," Malfoy said, lifting his brows before heading back to his table amidst the barely contained laughter of his housemates.

            "Malfoy!"

            Harry jumped. Usually that tone was reserved for him and him alone.

            "Yes, Professor?"

            "You will see me after class for detention, and you and I will discuss your little…prank. Am I understood?"

            "Yes, Professor Snape."

            Snape turned to him with his usual loathing. "Weasley, gather up Potter's things. Potter, you're excused to go to the infirmary."

            Harry sighed in relief. Whatever Snape had given him had stopped it from spreading, but not from hurting. On the way to the infirmary he wondered what kind of detention the potions professor would give Malfoy, probably just sitting for an hour a day brainstorming ways to make his life more miserable. He was certain the great Draco Malfoy wouldn't have to stoop to cleaning rat entrails, a task that Snape had given him and Ron when they had the misfortune of having detention.

            After what seemed like an eternity he reached the infirmary. To his surprise, he could see Hagrid there, the top of his bushy head visible over the white curtains placed around one of the beds. He was about to walk over when Madam Pomfrey came bustling over. 

            "What's wrong, Potter?" she asked, and frowned when he showed her his hand. "Potions class?"

            "Yes," he answered sullenly. Over half the time he'd been in the infirmary was because of something that happened during his hour and a half with Snape.

            "Well, come on, sit down," she lead him to an empty bed. "I'll be right back."

            "Harry!" Hagrid had caught sight of him, and moved out from the curtains. He had just enough time to catch a glimpse of Ms. Elvbow's pale face before he moved the curtains back. Then he looked at Hagrid. "What's that?"

            Hagrid was carrying a snake, a large snake, truth be told. It was wrapped around his torso, and he could just see its eyes peaking out from under his wiry beard. "This 'er's Missy," the half-giant said, pride filling his voice.  "She's Ms. Elvbow's. She was gettin' antsy, being cooped up in my house for the past few days, so I thought ta let her have some fresh air."

            Harry looked at the snake, which was currently twining lazily around Hagrid's large frame in a proprietary way. She reminded of the python he'd set on Dudley five years ago before coming to Hogwarts. "Hello," he said, focusing on speaking English. Even though he could speak Parsal tongue, he hated doing it. It reminded him of who he'd got it from.

            _"Heelllooo,"_  she answered. _"Whaatssss wrong withhh you?"_

            Harry held up his hand, and Missy moved forward, flicking her tongue out before recoiling quickly.

            _"Naassssty ssstufff, niightssshade. You ssshhhould be more careffful."_

            "_Easy for you to say,_" he answered in Parsal. _"Someone did it to me in class."_

            "_Wwhhichhh classss?"_

_            "Potions. Professor Snape teaches it and-"_

            _"Ssssnaaaape! Don't like hhhhimmm."_

            " I know how you feel," Harry answered in English. At least the two of them had something in common.

            "Let me see that hand, Potter," Madam Pomfrey said. She held a damp towel with a pair of prongs, so he guessed this wouldn't be pleasant, and he wasn't disappointed. The moment she dropped the towel on the cut the pain in his hand and arm spiked, then began to recede. He watched as the brown mass slowly shrunk, until his hand was the same color again. "You don't need stitches, but it'll have to stay clean and dry until it heals," she swiftly applied a large bandage and taped it in place. "I'll give you everything you need. Change it twice a day, when you wake up and before you go to sleep. And if it gets dirty during training, clean it immediately afterwards."

            "Yes, Madam Pomfrey," he cocked his head. "Why don't you just heal it like you usually do?"

            The witch smirked. "To teach people the consequences of their actions."

            Harry gapped. "But it wasn't my fault!"

            She sighed and pulled out her wand. "Fine, next time, though, it's healing naturally."

            Harry breathed a sigh of relief as the cut was healed, ending the throbbing pain in his hand.

            _"You wwwaant I ssshhhould eat him fffor you?"_ Missy asked suddenly.

            Harry had one fleeting image of Snape being swallowed whole by the large snake before answering. "No, you'd get into more trouble that its worth."

            _"Wwwooouldn't mind."_

            "We'll walk ta class together," Hagrid said, patting Harry on the shoulder with one large hand. "So what happened there?"

            "Potions," Harry sighed. "We're learning healing potions, and I got to test Malfoy's."

            "Snape's startin' early this year, is he?" Hagrid shook his head. "Man's always been a pain if ya ask me. But Dumbledore trusts him 'en all, so he cant be all that bad."

            Harry nodded. Dumbledore did trust him, and the headmaster was an excellent judge of character. He knew Snape had been a spy, turning against his fellow Death Eaters to get information to stop Voldemort to the Ministry of Magic. Personally, he didn't know if he'd trust someone who'd proven that he was a turncoat, but Dumbledore never put his trust in someone needlessly.

            "What are we doing today, Hagrid?"

            The older man beamed. "You just wait and see, Harry. Just wait."

________________________________________________________________________

            "I believe we have an answer, Severus."

            Professor Snape sat down. Madam Pomfrey, Professor Calafas, and Professor Flitwick were already seated. 

            "Professor Flitwick, if you would," Dumbledore said.

            Flitwick nodded. "We found the curse we think is responsible for Ms. Elvbow's attacks. It's a charm, at least it started out that way; a variation of the _Contatis_ charm, much like the one that keeps this castle safe from Muggles, only instead of keeping her away from a place or person, it's keeping her away from magic itself. I don't have to tell you that it's highly frowned upon to perform the charm on a person. The results are uncontrollable."

            "We suspect that it was cast when she was a baby," Calafas added.  "and has since sunk into a curse. Instead of fear when she is in the presence of magic, or an overwhelming urge to be elsewhere which the charm is supposed to create, in her it produces pain."

            Snape spoke up. "She said something about Muggle doctors giving her different types of drugs to handle the problem," he reached into a pocket of his robes and pulled out a bottle. "At the Leaky Cauldron she attempted to take these."

            Dumbledore picked up the bottle. "Any idea as to what this is made of?"

            Severus shook his head. "I was hoping that I might recruit Granger and Potter for that, since both of them have experience dealing with the Muggle world. I believe it might prove valuable in treating her."

            Dumbledore nodded. "I believe that the Gryffindor Quidditch team does not begin practice until next week. They can help you this weekend, and you have my permission to take them off school grounds." He turned to Madam Pomfrey. "What is her current situation, Poppy?"

            The nurse sighed. "She seems to be in a lot of pain during the day, less so at night. With what Gillian and Filius have discovered, my guess is that having over two hundred students performing magic isn't going over well for her. She hasn't woken up again for any real period of time, just long enough to take some more sleeping draft. I hope you can lift that curse quick, because she's starting to loose weight."

            Calafas and Flitwick glanced at each other. "We believe that the curse can be lifted, but it will take time to prepare. We've asked the Ministry to send in a specialist, and he should be arriving to day after tomorrow to asses the situation," Flitwick answered. "If all goes well, she should be up and about by Tuesday, at the latest."

            "Good." Dumbledore handed the bottle back to Snape. "Thank you for you assistance in this matter professors. The other matter that we must address is what to do with her once she is cured. Obviously, she cannot be allowed to go back into the Muggle world."

            "Headmaster, I believe that might be the only course of action in her case," Snape said quickly. "She has lived her entire life as a Muggle. It is hard enough for children that are found to adjust to living in our world. It may prove too much for a full grown woman."

            "That I understand, Severus," Dumbledore answered. "But it may come down to choosing between two evils. She is powerful for one who is untrained, as her actions the night of the Feast attests to. Once the curse if lifted, there is no telling what may happen concerning her abilities. She must be trained."

            "You don't mean to put her with the first years, professor?" Calafas asked.

            Dumbledore shook his head. "At the moment I cannot tell you what I plan on doing until I have spoken with Marian, but I doubt she would fit in with students who are so much younger than her. If you have any suggestions concerning a teaching arrangement, please feel free to let me know."     

            "How's the hand, Potter?"

            Harry sighed. Why couldn't that idiot get a hobby other than torturing him? "Fine, Malfoy. Hope you didn't get it to harsh from Snape."

            Malfoy laughed. "Hard? He congratulated me. I even got extra points for Slytherin for 'ingenuity in potion brewing.'" That said, Malfoy glided over to the Slytherin table, where he was met with applause.

            Harry fought the urge to curse. He should have known Snape wouldn't do anything to his favorite student other than praise him. Malfoy could probably kill half the class and Snape would still find a way to give the git points.

            "Don't worry about it, Harry," Hermione said, looking daggers at the Slytherin table before turning back to her tuna sandwich. "They'll both get paid back in interest for everything they do."

            "Yeah," Ron added, slamming shut his Divination book, _Plotting the Stars: Fortune Telling and its Advantages_. "I just hope we're there to see it. Anyway, what did you think of Hagrid's class?"

            Harry smiled. Hagrid had gained back his confidence in teaching the Care of Magical Creatures class, and had presented them with pegasi the day before. The space behind Hagrid's hut had been transformed into a huge birdcage, where the winged horses were playing when they approached.

           "Now be careful," Hagrid had warned them when he opened the cage door. "They're cute, but their deadly, and 'eavier than they look. They're young now, but when their full grown they can take on a Hippogriff. And they act as a pack, so don't do anything to upset one, or ye might have to face the whole herd, and I might not be able ta save ya," He looked pointedly at Malfoy.

             Each house had their own to take care of, if they could convince the Pegasus to trust them. The hour that followed was full of hay offerings and blandishments in an attempt to get them to come down from the top of the cage, where they hovered like overgrown birds. In the end he, Hermione, and Ron had been adopted by a jet black filly, which they named Thunder. 

            "How long did he say we were taking care of them again, Hermione?"

            "Until winter, then they go back to the farm," she sighed wistfully. "I can't wait Wednesday."

            Harry agreed whole heartedly. They should have Care of Magical Creatures five days a week instead of only three.

            "Great. Hide the joy guys, here comes Snape," Ron muttered, opening his potions book to a random page and starting to read.

            "Potter, Granger, I have a task for you," Snape said, looming over them.

            Harry sighed. Whatever it was, it probably involved something that smelled terrible and looked just as bad. "Yes, Professor?"

            "Meet me in my office Saturday morning at eight o'clock, I'll tell you everything you need to know then. And Weasley, since you seem so interested in illumination potions, I'd like a role of parchment on my desk Friday discussing the difference that using yew instead of crabwort creates in the color and intensity of the potions light," without a backwards glance, Snape walked away

            Harry grabbed Ron, throwing the two of them to the floor. The red-head had been in the process of hurling his book full force at the back of Snape's head.

            "What do you suppose he wants?" Hermione asked after they'd climbed back onto their seats.

            Ron rubbed his arm. "Couldn't tell you. What I'm wondering is why he just wants you two."

            Hermione shrugged. "Don't know. By the way, Harry, how's Ms. Elvbow?"

            Harry stared into his pumpkin juice. "Still asleep. Hagrid was their while I was in the infirmary with her pet. She's a python." He smiled. "She likes Snape about as much as we do."

            Ron laughed. "Snake's got good taste then," he frowned, looking back at his book. "What 's wrong with that blighter, anyway? Does he enjoy making other people's lives miserable?"

            "I wouldn't put it past him," Hermione added offhandedly. "He probably enjoys feeling like he has power over other people. Over the summer I read a book about psychology and what makes people act the way they do. Maybe he's the way he is now because he was so unpopular when he was a student."

            "Too bad your dad saved him, Harry," Ron muttered. "Bloody terrible turn, that."

            Harry nodded in agreement. "Snape has his uses, for someone. I can't imagine letting someone that evil live for no reason."

            "Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, but he had already stood up and was halfway out the room.


	5. SIlver

Sasha Silverleaf, the ministries charms expert was not what Snape had expected. She was a slight creature, whose four fingered hands and pointed ears marked her as part elf. Her height- she could probably stand eye to eye with Hagrid- marked her heritage specifically as woodland elf.  Currently, she was standing over Marian, eyes closed, her pointed ears moving slightly. He, Dumbledore, Flitwik, and Calafas were waiting patiently for her assessment. 

            "She is indeed cursed," the elf said before opening her large, apple-green eyes. "It is a variation of the _Contatis_ charm that you believed it to be. A counter-curse for the same charm may be effective."

            "May. Mrs. Silverleaf?" Dumbledore asked as they walked out of the infirmary.

            She nodded, brushing her wispy, silver hair out of her face. "As I said, the charm is a variation of the curse. How effective the counter-curse will be depends on the skill of the person who cast it. And believe me, from the trace signature I can tell you it wasn't an amateur."

            "Do you have any idea who might have cast the curse, Sasha," Flitwik asked. 

            She shook her head. "The signature does not match that of anyone I've studied. I can tell you right off that it wasn't You-Know-Who. The energy is too close to her own. My guess would be that the curse was cast by a parent or sibling."

            Everyone released the breath they'd been holding. "How soon will you be able to perform the counter-curse?" Snape asked.

            " Professor Flitwik's assessment is accurate. Tuesday at the latest. I will need a place to brew the necessary potions, somewhere where they wont be disturbed."

            "I'm sure we can find somewhere in the infirmary where you will not be disturbed." Dumbledore assured her. "In the mean time Professor Snape advised me that his personal store will be open to you."

            Snape nodded."Let me know what you need and I will see if I have it."

            Sasha nodded, bending like a willow in a slight wind. "Then we will start immediately."

            "Certainly. Professor Flitwick, if you would be so kind as to show Ms. Silverleaf to the room that was prepared for her. I believe your things are there, ready and waiting."

            They had reached one of the colonnades open to the elements, this one facing the Dark Forest, before she spoke up again. "I believe I will walk your forest tonight, Professor Dumbledore. Some of the ingredients need to be fresh, and untouched by human hands."

            Dumbledore nodded. "Of course. If you like, Hagrid could accompany you."

            The elf smiled. "That will not be necessary, Professor. Your forest poses no threat to me, though I do appreciate the offer."

            "I'm sure Madam Silverleaf would be more than capable of taking care of herself, Albus," Flitwick added. 

            She smiled. "I thank you for your confidence in me, professor.  There will be a full moon tomorrow night, which works in our favor. The spell components must be at their absolute highest potency to aid Ms. Elvbow's chances of survival."

            "Chances of survival?" Dumbledore asked.

            Sasha nodded gravely. "The curse is an old one, Professor, and quite established. A simple counter-curse may not be sufficient, even with the properly brewed potions. I can detect no failsafe to harm her if someone attempts to remove the curse, but anything could happen. We must be prepared for that. Professor Flitwick, if you would?"

            As the two walked off Snape and Dumbledore followed them with their eyes.Flitwick was chatting excitedly about a new theory on charming inanimate objects while Sasha listened intently.  " If they weren't such a mismatched pair, I'd say it was love," Snape said sarcastically when they were out of earshot.

            Dumbledore raised one eyebrow. "He did seem quite taken with her, didn't he? I was speaking with Professor Trelawney earlier today. She assures me that Venus is in the ninth house this month, and that romance is a definite possibility."

            Snape snorted. He had yet to see that Trelawney woman give an actual prediction. "Are you sure she isn't slipping anything illegal into those tea's she's constantly brewing?" he asked, lacing his voice liberally with sarcasm.

            Dumbledore thought for a moment, them smiled slyly. "Nothing that I don't know about, Severus. She says that you will have an especially rocky year, and that it involves our guest to some extent."

            Snape snorted. "More like her pet. That python has been trying to kill me since it met me. Yesterday the thing lunged at me when Hagrid carried it past."

            "Yes, Missyla does seem to bear you some ill will, Professor. Perhaps she is upset because she feels you are responsible for the state her mistress is in?"

            Snape flushed. " No, she cornered me the moment I walked into Ms. Elvbow's apartment. I assumed at first it was the scent of rat entrails, but I'm beginning to believe I was mistaken."

            "Hm," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "Perhaps if you were to spend more time with her, you might be able to  see eye to eye."

            Snape sighed at Dumbledore's retreating back. There were times when he simply couldn't understand the man's sense of humor.

            Hermione yawned. It was seven fifty, and she and Harry were hurrying down the long corridors of Hogwarts, trying to get to Snape's office before eight. Snape hated them. To be fair he hated everyone not in Slytherin, and there were times when she wondered if he hated them too, but he hated her, Harry, and Ron the most. He never missed an opportunity to take points away from them,  insult them, or give them extra assignments that would be to their 'benefit'. It was a distinct possibility that he would try to do at least one of those things if the were so much as a minute late.

            Finally, after eight minutes of weaving in and out of hallways, they reached the dungeons. Harry lifted his hand and knocked loudly.

            Snape pulled open the door, and they both stared. He wasn't wearing robes. Quite the contrary, he was wearing a baggy black pullover and a pair of black slacks that were about two sizes too big. His hair was less greasy. He almost looked…normal.

            "Well, are you two planning on standing there all morning, or are you going to come in?"

            She and Harry hurried through the door and stood in front of Snape's desk. All their other professors kept extra chairs in their offices, just in case someone needed to sit down. Not Snape. His office consisted of a single desk pilled high with papers and books, and a large high backed chair. The rest of the office was dominated by several large glass-faced cabinets, whose contents she was certain only Professor Snape knew for sure. In fact, she was certain he was the only person who would want to know what they were.

            "I've called you here today because I would like to enlist your assistance," Snape said, hands folded over his chest. " We need information on Ms. Elvbow, information that can only be attained in the Muggle world. As such, you two are the prime candidates to help. We will be going to the London Library at 9:30 this morning. You have until then to change clothes if you wish, and to have breakfast. We may spend the entire morning and early part of the afternoon there, so if you had any plans, I suggest you revise them."

            "Yes Professor," Hermione and Harry said together.

            "Well then, go on," Snape said, all but kicking them out of his office. They barely made it out the door before it was slammed behind them.

            Harry and Hermione were silent until they were out of the dungeons. "What do you suppose all that was about?" Harry asked. "I mean, what are they hoping to find out about her?"

            "I don't know," Hermione answered as they climbed the short flight of stairs that lead to the main staircases. "But I'm sure anything we find out will help."

            As soon as they entered the main stairwell something landed on their right, splashing Hermione with a sour smelling liquid.

            "Peeves!" She shouted. "You got sour milk on my robes!"

            Peeves the Poltergeist stuck his head out of the wall behind them. "It was an accident, I swear," he said between giggles. "I thought you were Catherine."

            At that moment a dark head peeked from behind one of the alcoves and darted across the stair case, heading towards the Great Hall. "Dang it, you made me miss her!" Peeves shouted. Catherine Gulliver was one of the first years that Peeves had taken a fancy to terrorize. It was only fear of the Bloody Baron that kept him from attacking her during classes since she was a member of Slytherin. 

            "Right," Hermione muttered. Come on, we need to change anyway."

            "Change? Change!" Peeves bounced along in front of them. "What are you doing? Where are you going? Tell me!! Please please please!"

            "Go away Peeves," Harry said as they reached the portrait hole.

            Peeves smiled evilly. " Why would I do that? You cant go in with me here, I might slip the password to someone. I think Malfoy would be happy to learn how to get in there," he stared hard at the Fat Lady. "So, tell me or I'm not leaving."

            "Oh, go bother someone else, Peeves," the Fat Lady scolded.

            "Why? Besides, I always thought you needed a little more color in that old frame of yours." Suddenly he was wearing a beret and carrying a tray of paint.

            The Fat Lady bristled. "You even _ think_ about it, and you'll find yourself in here with me…forever."

            Peeves laughed. "I'd like to see you try it you old bat!"

            Hermione was about to pull out her wand and try out the _Spectramus_ spell she'd read about when she froze. The Bloody Baron was rising from the floor, looking even less pleased than normal.

            "Peeves," the sound made her shiver. It was the first time she'd ever heard the Baron actually speak before. His voice was low and raspy.

            The poltergeist froze, then turned around quickly. "Why Baron! How good to see you! How have you been? Still trying to get those stains out?"

            The two students _felt_ the Baron get angrier at that. No one asked about the Barons stains, not even the professors, to their knowledge.

            No one. 

            Silently, the ghost pointed to the main stairwell, and Peeves moved slowly towards the door. For all his trouble, they doubted he deserved whatever punishment the mail-clad baron was going to give him. He gave them one last look before floating after Peeves.

            "Password?" The Fat Lady asked once they were gone.

            "_Balar Paramus,"_ Harry said.

            The portrait swung open, revealing the Gryffindor common room.

            "I'll meet you back here in ten minutes," Hermione said, running up the stairs.


	6. Homework

            Harry sighed when they finally Apparated in the London Library. He hated the feeling. It was like disappearing into nothingness and then being thrown together again, quite different from using a portkey. He repositioned his glasses and took a look around. From what he could see there wasn't anyone around, no camera, nothing. Everything was also covered with a fine layer of dust, so he guessed this wasn't a well used section of the library.

            "You are to stay in my sight the entire time we are here," Snape said as they walked up a lighted staircase. "If you need to go somewhere else in the library, you will have to wait until we are ready to move. Is that understood?"

            "Yes Professor," he murmured with Hermione. The less they spoke to the man the more pleasant this was likely to be.

            With that Snape threw open a door, and they found themselves on what had to be the ground floor of the library. Harry winced at the sudden flush of sunlight streaming in through the large windows. A few Muggles were milling around, and the clock behind the main desk read 9:40, so the library was indeed open.

            "All right then, the best place to start would be the internet," she started dragging Harry towards the back of the library.

            "How do you know where everything is?" he asked after being set down at a console.

            Hermione sighed. "I used to come here after school so I wouldn't have to sit at home by myself," she sat down at a computer next to him and opened a browser.

            Harry shook his head. Hermione had to be the only person he knew who would spend her afternoons in a library when she didn't have to.

            "Do you two know what to do with these contraptions?" Snape asked from behind them. When they both nodded he placed a piece of parchment on the table between them. "Good. While you're searching I want one of you to find out what these things are," he tapped the parchment before moving away.

            Hermione glanced at the parchment and looked up, surprised. "Haloperidol? Lorazopam? Vicodin?" 

            Harry shook his head. "I'll take that if you want."

            Silently, they began looking for information, trying to ignore Snape as much as possible. There were times when Harry would feel him staring a hole into his back before going back to whatever it was he was doing.

            "Hey, Harry," Hermione said after a minute. "Look at this."

            Harry scooted over. Hermione had pulled up an article.

                        _The 1992 Olympics already had the world in an uproar from the moment  it was announced that they were to be held in Barcelona, Spain. Anyone who was worth their salt began the tiresome routine of intense training and competition to be declared the best at their sport and have the chance to compete at the most prestigious sporting event in the world. _

_                        It was announced earlier today that Tae kwon do, a Korean martial art, is  to be a demonstration  sport at the Barcelona Olympics. This means that while women and men will compete, they will not receive medals. Many enthusiasts hope that in the next few years the sport will be fully recognized by the IOC. Several countries are already rubbing their hands in anticipation of showing the best they have to offer in the sport, but none perhaps as happily as the United States. It was revealed to this reporter that the US has what could be considered a "secret weapon", and that weapon's name is Marian Elvbow. _

_                        Elvbow, just turned 28, is believed by many in the US school to be their best hopes at showing up the rest of the world. Elvbow, a native of Arizona,  is an unassuming young woman who admits that she first started practicing Tae Kwon Do as a 'lark' at the age of 20, and actually switched to another form of martial arts known as Xing Yi, which is Chinese in origin, because it "fit my personality better". She did return to Tae Kwon Do for competition, though she says that she still prefers Xing Yi for "personal reasons"._

_                        Eight short years later she stands as the undefeated (so far) US female champion in the middle weight divisions, having worked her way up from the general invisibility of the lower classes. In two weeks it will be determined at the US  National Tae Kwon Do Championships if she will be able to compete at Barcelona. _

_                        "I'm not nervous," Marian said at a small conference earlier in the week. "The best person will win, and if that's not me, that's that."_

_                        When asked if she was bothered by her sudden rise to stardom Marian had this to say. "I'm a martial artist first and foremost, everything else is just a by product. It is good to see more people signing up at the dojo now that they feel they can go somewhere with it."_

            Underneath the picture was Ms. Elvbow, wearing what looked like a short white bathrobe and pants with a black belt, smiling along with about twenty other people similarly dressed. Harry blinked. Ms. Elvbow, an Olympic champion? You wouldn't guess it looking at her. She never talked about it, even when she bought in martial arts movies for them to watch at parties.

            "What do you think happened?" he asked. She looked so happy there, holding up a trophy that was almost as tall as she was.

            " I don't know, but I'm guessing I should print this out and look for the results," Hermione hit Ctrl-P.

            Shaking himself, Harry turned back to what he was working on. He couldn't understand half of what they were talking about, so he just clicked on everything  that he could find. Already he had several pages concerning "pain relief"  "psychosis" "schizophrenia" "agitation"  and "anti-anxiety". Whatever these drugs were, they were for crazy people.

            "Oh no," Hermione whispered.

            "What?" he asked, leaning over.

            Hermione had pulled up another page, and he felt his heart sink as he read it.

            _            The dreams of many American Tae Kwon Do enthusiasts were shattered today as Marian Elvbow, the woman many believed would be America's best bet for an Olympic victory, collapsed after Finalist kata. She was rushed off to St Josephs Hospital, where she was officially diagnosed as having 'acute fatigue'. While this diagnosis is the official one given by the spokesperson for the WTF, rumors have spread throughout the martial arts world like wildfire. Some of the rumors include that she is  actually pregnant, attempted suicide, or passed out from a drug overdose._

_                        Fast on the end of this diagnosis came several unsubstantiated reports that it was actually a psychotic episode that drove Elvbow into the hospital. . Elvbow, who has a history of mental disturbance, refused to comment on her mental state, saying only that she had been pushing herself too hard over the past week, and how she was paying for it. One thing is certain, though. Her health is at a point where she will be unable to finish the competition, and she will not compete at the Barcelona Olympics._

            "Poor woman," Hermione murmured as she printed this page. "I wonder what really happened." She turned to Harry. "Did she ever talk about any of this?"

            Harry shook his head. "Not a word."

            Harry turned back to his own computer and began printing the pages he'd had saved. Hermione was typing again, so he guessed she had thought of something else to search for. Lost in thought, he walked over to the printer and waited as it spit out pages and pages of information. There were times at Hogwarts when he wished they could use computers for papers. It would make it so much easier.

            Finally, the printer stopped, and he carried the thick stack of papers back to their work area. Hermione was sitting in front of the computer, this time with tears in her eyes. "What is it?" he asked. When she didn't say a word he glanced at the screen again. It was a copy of an old newspaper in Arizona, dating from 1976. The headline read:  Missing Girl found After Two Weeks

                        _Two weeks ago Shady Hill Sanitarium was shocked to discover that one of its patients was missing. The girl, 13 year old Marian, apparently left her room sometime during the night, though exactly how she did this is a mystery to the staff. A thorough search of the premises revealed that she wasn't there, nor had she been seen in the surrounding area. The orderlies held by their story that she had been locked in her room that night, and they are certain that she got out through no fault of their own._

_                        Early yesterday morning, a driver spotted Marian walking along rural route 7 two counties away, her clothing in tatters. She was unresponsive when he attempted to talk to her, and acted "Like a doll that could breathe". The good Samaritan took her to Chandler Regional Hospital, where she is undergoing treatment for exposure and  dehydration, as well as a host of cuts and bruises. We have received word that she is still unresponsive and refuses to speak to any of the hospital staff. _

_            This is the second time Marian has been in our small newspaper in her short life. The first time was two years ago, when she attempted to destroy several works of art in the Arizona Art Museum, claiming that they were talking to her. According to witnesses Marian tried to knock the painting off the wall with one of the chairs that were scattered around the room. " It was like she was possessed," stated one of the museum workers. "She just kept screaming and crying".  It was after this incident that she was transferred from Blackridge Juvenile Home to Shady Hill for observation and treatment._

_                        "Doesn't surprise me that she finally got out," Mildred Collins, one of the volunteers at Blackridge admitted when the news broke that Marian had gone missing. Apparently, performing these disappearing acts is something that she became quite proficient at while at the Home, though Collins admits that "she never went farther than the front gate"._

            "This cant be the same person, can it?" Harry asked Hermione. It sounded like they were reading about two different people. "I mean, there have to be thousands of people in Arizona named Marian, right?"

            Hermione shook her head. "The ages match, Harry. It is possible that there are two people named Marian who lived in Arizona and have mental problems, 

but the chances of that would be in the millions." She had already pulled up a new page, this one containing the results of a small martial arts competition.

            By the time the trio had returned to Hogwarts in the early afternoon all Harry wanted to do was climb into bed and sleep. He and Ron had stayed up the night before and running on four hours of sleep was not his idea of a good time. Unfortunately, he wasn't allowed to go to sleep.

            "So, what did Snape make you do?" Ron asked the minute they entered the Gryffindor common room.

            Harry shrugged. "Just looked up some stuff, that's all."

            Ron wasn't convinced. "Come on, I looked all over Hogwarts and I couldn't find you anywhere. It couldn't have been detention, so what happened?"

            "We went to the library," Hermione said, exasperated. She was just as tired as Harry.

            "I checked-"

            "The London Library," Harry finally shouted, then wished he could kick himself. Now Ron would never stop asking questions.

            "What! You went into the Muggle world with Snape?"

            Ron looked like a fish out of water, with his mouth hanging open like that. "We needed some information on Muggles, that's all," Hermione said quickly, making up for Harry's outburst. "Now, we're both about to fall out, so would you mind letting us get some sleep? We'll talk later."

            "Oh, sure," Ron looked abashed, blushing to his hairline.

HI! Thanks for reading this !!! Remember:  FEEDBACK!!!! Your comments are all the payment I get out of this, so give them to me. See something I've screwed up? have information you think I need? Think I should be taken out back and shot? Leave it in a review, or an email. I love hearing from people J  
            


	7. What you see and what you hear

            Albus Dumbledore patted Fawke's head absently as he listened to the Ministers of Magic. Cornelius Fudge and the American Minister Janson Swallowtail were deep in conversation over what was to be done about Marian. Janson was young for someone is his position. His hair was a deep sandy brown, and he looked like he should still be in his sixth year.

            "I can assure you that we had no knowledge of this woman, Cornelius," Janson said. "We keep tabs on anyone who has even the smallest amount of magical powers. How she managed to elude us is beyond me."

            "Our charms expert has informed us that she is under a curse," Fudge said, and Dumbledore cringed at his haughty tone. "It's been suppressing her natural abilities for years. We are, however, planning on lifting this curse as soon as possible."

            "Which leads us to the question at hand," Dumbledore cut in. "Whether Ms. Elvbow will be staying in Britain, or if she will be returning to the United States."

            Swallowtail nodded. "Understandable. Our links in the Muggle world have informed me that Elvbow was in the process of changing her citizenship from American to British. She's already lived in this country for the past four years. She's established herself here, built a life for herself-"

            "One which she will more than likely have to give up, all things considered," Fudge cut in.

            "I understand that, Cornelius. I think it would be better to make these kinds of arrangements when Ms. Elvbow will be here to give her input, don't you think?"

            Fudge nodded. "Yes. Of course. I was mostly concerned if the American Council will lend us their support in this matter."

            "Of course. Personally, I'm wondering if it might not be the better idea to return her to the Muggle world. Decursed, of course."

            Albus raised an eyebrow. " I believe that is perhaps the worst thing that can be done in this case," Dumbledore waved his hand, and a large stack of papers floated from his desk to Janson. " Professor Snape and two of our students did some research on Ms. Elvbow, and this is what they found. We may be doing more harm than good in ignoring her. She has already suffered enough in the Muggle world, through no fault of her own, for us to send her back without a word."

            Swiftly, Janson read through the pages, barely stopping on one before moving to the other one. When he finished he sighed deeply. "It is unfortunate, Dumbledore, but the fact remains that it is extremely difficult for most Muggle born children to become acclimated in our world. What the effects of such a drastic change would be on a full grown woman is baffling."

            "Perhaps it will not be as difficult as everyone believes," the headmaster said thoughtfully. "We have a woman who has been told that something was wrong with her for her entire life. We have the chance to show her that she was right all along, and that it was others who were wrong. Personally, I believe that it will go smoothly."

            Janson nodded in agreement. "If that is all gentlemen, I will be going. Feel free to contact me when you believe it would be better to have this conversation."

            "Certainly, Minister," Cornelius said, standing. "It was good of you to come."

            The other man smiled. "Well, goodnight to you, Headmaster, Minister." He walked to the fireplace and threw a handful of powder into it. "Merciers Ministry," he said loudly as he stepped into the flames.

            Fudge sighed. "What do you think, Albus?"

            "What I think, Cornelius, matters very little here. This is a matter of what our two ministries will decide is best for her. However, if she were to stay in England, I feel that Hogwarts would be the best place for her."

            Cornelius stood. "You're a good man, Albus. When will Sasha be starting?"

            Albus stood as well, and moved to stand in front of the minister. " Because Ms. Elvbow's condition has been getting considerably worse, Sasha informed us that she will begin tonight at midnight. Any later and she feels the chances of success would be too low to risk it. I will inform you of the results, minister, if you do not wish to remain."

            " I cant, prior business and all that."

            Dumbledore nodded, he'd expected as much. "Then until tomorrow, Minister."

            _When will she wake?_

_            I don't know, Albus. It could be a few more hours, it could be days._

_            But she will wake?_

Silence. Then,_ The cleansing was very difficult. But yes, she should wake eventually…_

            The words drifted over her without really making any sense. Who were they talking about?

            _Headmaster, I think she's coming around._

            Marian forced her eyes to open, much good it did her. Everything was still too blurry to make out much o anything. She tried to move, and winced. It felt like she'd been put through a shredder and then put back together again.

            "How are you feeling?"

            Something swam in front of her, and settled into a pair of the largest eyes she'd ever seen. 

            "Bad," she croaked. 

            "Would you like some water?" This came from somewhere on her left, and she nodded, then moaned.

            That wasn't the best of ideas.

            A cup was placed to her mouth, and she swallowed some. It helped. "Where am I?"

            "Please, one thing at a time." Another shape moved into view, this one picked up her arm and checked her pulse. Another hospital then. "Do you know you're name?"

            Name? "Marian."

            The woman, at least she guessed it was a woman, put her hand down. "You gave us quite a fright there for a moment, Marian. But you pulled through."

            Marian shook her head and blinked, but her vision still sucked. "Why cant I see?"

"Oh, sorry about that. _Enucleo visum."_

            Instantly, her vision cleared. Three people were standing over her. One was dressed like a turn of the century nurse, the other…well, she'd figure out what that was in a minute, and a man who looked like he didn't own a razor, let alone know what a barber shop was. "Who are you?"

            "I, madam, am Albus Dumbledore. The lovely woman to your left is Sasha Silverleaf, and this," he placed a gentle hand on the other woman's shoulder, "Is Poppy Pomfrey."

            She looked at each of them in turn, the focused on Sasha. "What are you?"

            Far from looking offended, it actually looked amused. "I am a woodland elf, Ms. Elvbow."

            Elf? "Right. Enough with the games, what are you, a giant?"

            The woman, because there was no mistaking that voice for anything else, looked confused. "I assure you, I _am_ an elf," she looked about to say something else, but looked to the man. "I shall leave this in your more than capable hands, Albus."

            She moved out of Marian's line of sight, so she focused her attention on Albus. "Really, what's going on?" She tried to sit up, but her muscles weren't cooperating. 

            Before she could fall back he moved, and a pair of surprisingly strong hands helped her lean against the headboard. " I'm afraid she was being truthful with you, Ms. Elvbow. Sasha is indeed an elf."

            That's it, she wasn't staying in this freak show another minute. "Look, I'm sure you're busy, so if you would, I need to go."

            "I'm afraid that's not possible."

            _That_ made her pause. Not possible? "Come again?"

The man, Albus, didn't look threatening. In fact, he looked almost…apologetic. "I'm afraid you've had a nasty few hours, Ms. Elvbow-"

            "Cut the Ms. Elvbow. Just call me Marian."

            The man smiled. "Very well then. As I was saying: You've had a rather hard few hours, Marian. It would be in your best interest for you to remain in bed, at least until you get your strength back."

            Without a word, she flung back the sheets. She was wearing some kind of long nightgown, and she knew that should bother her, but she couldn't think of why. Glaring defiantly at Albus, she swung her legs over the side, gripped the metal bedstead, and pushed off.

            It really was embarrassing, falling in a heap at a stranger's feet. Thankfully, her grip on the bed kept her from going full-sprawl. 

            "Marian, please."

            "I am getting out of here, so you can help or piss off," she hissed, pushing herself upright. There. As long as she didn't try to move, she could stand all right.

            "And what do you think you're doing out of bed?"

            Marian looked around, but no one was there but her and long-beard over on the bed. 

            "Up here, miss."

            Marian looked up. Floating over her was a woman wearing an outfit similar to Pomfrey's. The only real difference was that where Pomfrey was solid, this woman wasn't.

            For a spilt second she was glad that she hadn't been able to take more than a small step away from the bed, because if she had her butt and the floor would be having a rather close and personal meeting. As it was, she landed on a soft mattress with the slightest of bounces. She looked back to Albus, then blinked. 

            Hard.

            "Are you all right, Marian?"

            She shook her head, then looked up again. No, she was still there.

            _It's not real. Ignore her and she'll go away, just like the others._ "Fine," she said, and winced. She sounded _way_ to cheerful. "Just thought I saw something, that's all." She looked around the room she was in. It seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place it. "Where am I again?"

"You wont get away with ignoring me, Missy. Where did you think you were going? You shouldn't be up at all, what with the condition you're in."

            _Shut up shut up shut up._

            Albus, for his part, smiled calmingly. "You're in the infirmary of my school, Marian. You've been here for sometime, actually. A little over a week, to be precise."

            A _week_?! Don was going to kill her. " A week?" she whispered. She didn't remember anything. Just…

            Dumbledore sighed as he watched her eyes flare. "Where is he? Did he bring me here?"

            "Severus thought it was in your best interest-"

            "I'm sure he did. He's the one that slipped me the Mickey in the first place!"  
            "Now look what you've done, Albus! She's fuming!"

            "Alberta, if you please-!"

            Marian blinked. Who was he talking to? "Alberta?"

            Dumbledore blinked. "Yes. She's the woman floating over there," he pointed, and she looked. A woman was standing there, the same transparent woman who'd been floating over them. 

            _Okay, this is just sick. This has to be some kind of …I don't know what it is…_ "No one's there," she said confidently.

He frowned again. "Lady Alberta was once our head nurse. She died some time ago, but I assure you she is quite real."

            "You better believe it, buster. Now run along she can get some rest."

            "I'm afraid I cant do that, Berty, and you know very well why."

            "Berty!" the woman was livid. "Why, I remember when I had to patch you up when you fell off your broom, Albus Dumbledore! Do not think to get free with me!"

            Marian's head was spinning. She was hallucinating, she had to be. People just didn't have conversations with…_go ahead, say it…_ ghosts. Not in reality. But he was staring right at her. He _heard_ what she'd said to Marian. It couldn't be a hallucination then, they weren't shared experiences.

            "Hold up!" she yelled, and jumped when the bed they were sitting on decided to jump too. "Tell me now, what in the _hell_ is going on!"

            Albus, if that was even his real name, sighed heavily. "As I was trying to tell you, Marian. You are at a school. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

            Marian laughed, she couldn't help herself. "Witchcraft? Wizardry? Okay, now I know you're batty." She stood up again, and this time remained on her feet.

            Dumbledore stood as well. "You cant leave, Marian. There is much that you need to understand-"

            "No, there isn't. You've kidnapped me, bought me to some kind of holographic show against my will. There's nothing I need to understand," she backed away slightly. Man, he was tall.

            "Please, Marian. If you will lie down,  will explain everything to you."

            She didn't move. "Explain it to me from here."

            "Very well, then. I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of this school. And I assure you, this is indeed a school. We currently have 250 students in seven different years of study."

            _250 kids here? With this crackpot?_ An image floated in her head. Harry, standing over her with those big green eyes of his, talking to her, wearing some kind of bathrobe over his pants.

A surge of anger welled up in her. Harry was here. He must have run away from the Dursley's. This man and his helpers probably dragged abused kids here from all over London. Who knew what he was doing to them here. And now she was here.

            The bed behind Dumbledore shifted, skittering a few feet over the stone floor, but neither seemed to notice. "What have you done to Harry?" she whispered, venom lacing her voice.

            The other man didn't seem fazed. "Harry is fine, Marian. He is currently in class. Would you like him here?"

            _Yes! She had to get him away from these people. Who knew what kind of damage they'd done already!_ "Please."

Dumbledore nodded. "Alberta, would you please bring Harry Potter to the infirmary."

            The woman nodded, then floated through a wall.

            After a few minutes of tense silence Harry ran into the room, followed by the ghost. "Ms. Elvbow, you're all right!" Without stopping he ran full force into her. The two teetered dangerously before Marian finally righted them. "Hey Lightening," she whispered.

            Harry pulled back, and she noticed for the first time that he was taller than she was by a few inches. He'd filled out too. "Look who sprouted up!"

            He smiled. The same shy smile he'd given her when she complimented him on his writing in the sixth grade. "It's been four years since the sixth grade."

            "I see," suddenly she turned serious. "What are you doing here, Harry?"

            He looked stunned. "Didn't Professor Dumbledore tell you? This is a school, Ms. Elvbow."

            Oh no, what kind of brainwashing had they used on him. "Harry, I don't know what's going on here, but this cant be a school. Witches don't exist, neither to wizards, I don't care what Merlin over there has told you or any of the other kids here."

            Harry shook his head. "No, you don't understand, they _do_ exist, and I'm one of them," he smiled again. He looked happier than she remembered.

            "Perhaps a small demonstration would be in order Harry."

            He nodded, and took out a smooth branch. A wand. "Harry, what are you doing?" she asked.

            "I'm going to levitate something. Maybe then you'll understand," he pointed the wand at one of the chairs in the room. 

            Marian winced. What would Merlin say if nothing happened? That he hadn't tried hard enough, that the planets weren't in their right alignment today for levitating things. 

            "_Wingardium Leviosa!"_

            When she didn't hear a sigh of disappointment, she opened her eyes.

            There, floating happily, was the chair.

            "Believe us now?" Harry asked, excitement plain in his voice.

            She shook her head. This whole place was probably rigged for that kind of thing. They'd get suspicious if nothing happened when they performed their spells, afterall.

            "It's a trick, Harry," she said, almost desperate. "They probably have this whole placed rigged so that when you say something you get the proper effect."

            He looked…disappointed. Slowly, he began waving his wand, and the chair slowly came back down and touched the floor. "It's not a trick," he said with more surety than she'd ever heard in him. "It's real," he tucked his wand back into his robes. "Trust me on this."

            Before she could answer she felt a tingling begin in her stomach. It felt like someone was pulling her some kind of cord, and then she felt her feet leave the floor.

            "I believe a more personal demonstration is in order, Harry," the man said.

            Marian was speechless. There was nothing holding her up, no harness, to strings, nothing. It felt like she was being held up by some kind of force, but that force was distributed throughout her body so she couldn't tell where it was coming from. Silent, she kept floating higher and higher.

            _Okay, maybe she was wrong, or this was a very long hallucination_. "I'd like to get down now please," she said.

As gently as she was lifted, she felt herself being lowered until she was again on the floor. She didn't know what to think. This couldn't be real, there was no such thing as magic.

            "Marian?"

            "Ms. Elvbow?"

            Without a word she walked over to the bed and crawled into it. Maybe when she woke up the world would make more sense.

Thanks for reading this guys. It will be a Snape romance eventually. Special thanks goes out to Jean Lamb and Fate's Child for the reviews. Thanks guys!!!


	8. Muggles

            Marian burrowed further into her pillows. She knew the sun was shining, but her alarm clock hadn't gone off yet, so she probably had another good hour before she had to wake up. She cracked an eye and smiled to herself. Yep, she was in her bed, which meant that she'd dreamed the whole thing. That had to be one of the craziest dreams she'd had since they took her off percocet.  

            "It's almost noon, you know," a sarcasm laced voice said at her side.

            Immediately she was up, but she relaxed when she saw who it was. It was Snape. She must have fallen asleep while he was still here. "Um,  morning," she said.

            He just looked at her with that 'I'd like to cut you open and see what you're made of look' that he'd given her the night before. " Professor Dumbledore thought it might be best if you returned to the Muggle world for a while," he pulled out what she could only describe as an old fashioned quill. "If you want to return to Hogwarts, use this to write 'magic' on anything, and someone will be buy to pick you up." 

            "Slow down, what are you talking about?" Muggle? Hogwarts? How did he know about her dream? There was no way that had been real. It wasn't possible.

            Snape sighed. "You have been gone for eight days, Ms. Elvbow, and it is currently eleven forty eight. I suggest that you try to put your life in order. Remember to only use the quill if you are serious about devoting yourself to our world," with that he stood and walked out of the room.

            "Hey, wait a damn minute," she called, throwing off her covers and striding after him. She didn't hear the door open, so he must still be in the living room. She marched in, fully prepared to ream him royally, but stopped halfway through the doorway. He was nowhere in sight.

            Marian shook her head. Eight days? She'd remember if she went somewhere for eight days, wouldn't she? "Missyla?" she called into the apartment, but she didn't hear an answering hiss. "Missyla?!" she called again.

            She relaxed when she watched the snake's large form slither out of the bathroom. "Hey, you piece a shit, what's up?"

            The python just hissed and slithered into the kitchen. Yawning, Marian followed, frowning when she saw her plants. They looked a little peeked, even though she watered them yesterday. 

            Her answering machine was blinking too, which was rare in and of itself. No one but Don knew her number. She pressed the play button.

            "Mar, this is Don. Are you okay? You didn't show up for work today. Call me and let me know what's going on."

            _Must have been an old message, _she thought. She'd been to work every day this month. Another message started.

            "Okay, Mar, this isn't funny. It's been three days already. Where the bloody hell are you? I'm calling James in for the rest of the week. Please call me when you get this."

            Marian stared at the answering machine. Three days?

            "Marian, this is Dr. Almson, you missed our appointment today. Please call me as soon as you can to reschedule. Today is September second."

            She could feel herself shaking. _Eight days_. There was more than a week missing from her memory.

            "Marian. This is Dr. Almson again. This is the second time you've missed a session this week. I'm starting to get worried. Please, call me as soon as you get this message."

            "Ms Elvbow, this is your landlady. You haven't picked up your mail and the box is starting to get full. Please get your stuff soon."

            Marian braced her hands against the counter, dropped her head and slowly began counting backwards from a hundred. There had to be a logical explanation for all of this, she just had to find it.

            "Fuck," she whispered. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," that said, she walked into her bathroom for a quick shower: she smelled more than a little ripe.

            Five minutes later she'd dressed, grabbed her bag, and walked out the front door. 

            Twenty minutes later she was standing outside Dragon Marsh, the dojo she taught at.

            Don must have seen her walk past, because he was on her the moment she walked in the door with a bone-crushing hug.

            Don Chaunswong was a short, stocky, balding Asian man with a diehard Liverpool accent and a habit of wearing too much cologne, but she didn't mind at the moment. Finally, something normal.

            "Where in the bloody hell have you been, git?" he growled, looking her over. "Jesus, you feel like skin and bones, what happened to you?"

            She tried not to feel a rush at his show of concern, but failed. There had been precious few times when someone was genuinely concerned about her. "I just…I"

            "That doctor of yours was here yesterday. Wanted to know if you'd been to work at all. We thought you'd dropped off the map, girl! Thought I'd have to find another teacher for the first years."

            Marian smiled. "Sorry."

            Don gave her a hard look, then slapped her on the back. "Just don't do it again, okay? I don't think my heart could take it! Next time you want to take off, tell me!" As they walked by one of the classes he shouted. "Hey, looks whose back!"

            A sea of children wearing white dogis turned around and bowed, and she could see that many of them were smiling happily, others with obvious looks of relief. "What have you been doing to them?" she whispered.

            Don smiled. "Just a little tighter ship than you run, nothing special." 

            Marian smiled. "I want to see everyone at first position when I get back in five minutes!"

            At four o'clock Marian walked into the office of her psychiatrist. Dr. Almson's office was a study in mahogany. Everything was deep, warm tones and soothing music, meant to lull the herd, in her opinion. 

            She hated every inch of it.

            "Ms. Elvbow, Dr Almson will see you now," the secretary said.

            Dr Almson was a tall, pale English man, who for whatever reason thought that tweed was still in style. One thing that always surprised her about him was the fact that for a man of sixty, he still had all his hair.

            She wondered how much _that_ cost him a year.

            "It's good to see you again, Marian," he said, motioning to a recliner across from him.

            _Sentiment not shared!_

            "So, you missed two of our sessions last week."

            _Oh, get on with it!_

            "Might I ask why?"  
            _Okay, so what happened was I was kidnapped and taken to this castle which is I don't know where and I met a real life version of Merlin who lifted me about seven feet of the air using his wand and I saw a student I haven't seen in almost five years._ Yeah right, he'd Baker Act her in five seconds if she told him that. "I didn't feel like coming here."

            Almson sighed. "We've been over this, Marian. These sessions are vital if you want to continue outpatient therapy. Have you been taking your medication regularly?"

            "Yes," _actually I've missed over a week, but I'm not telling you that._

            "Any episodes?"

            She sighed, she knew he knew, he just wanted to see if she was telling the truth. "One, about a week ago."

            He put on his best grandfatherly face. _"_You know, Marian, that these spasms are an extension of your mental state_._ You control them."

            _Yeah, which is why I'm on 750mg of vicodine._ "So you've told me."

He nodded. "I went to Don's a few days ago. He told me that you hadn't shown up for work either. Would you like to talk about that?"

            "I was looking for another job," _Oh, yeah. Great thinking there._

            "Really?" Almson wrote that down on his note pad. "What kind of job?"

            _Shit._ "I was thinking about becoming a teacher again. An English teacher. There was a school up north that I wanted to check out."

"Which one?"

            _Damn damn double damn! _" I don't recall. It had some long name. But they have an opening for an English teacher available."

"Good, this is very good. You're showing a desire to reintegrate yourself back into society. But why wouldn't you tell your boss this?"

            Marian sighed. This man could pick at the tiniest detail until you wanted to scream. "Because he's my boss. You don't go up to your boss and say, 'hey, I'm looking for another job right now, think I could have a few days off?' Real life doesn't work that way."

            He looked a little affronted, but she didn't care. "Well, if that's all you wanted to see me about-?" she started to stand.

            "Actually, I was wondering what your plans would be if you did get this job. I'm sure you don't want to drive into London twice a week just to talk to me."

            _I wouldn't drive ten feet to talk to you if I didn't have to,_ "I'll think of something."

Marian's breath of relief didn't come until she was back in her apartment, arms loaded down with mail. Apparently, it was the time that she was gone, or whatever, that everyone decided it would be a good idea to get in touch. There were several letters from Cheryl, her friend in California, two from Beatrice, one of the colleagues in Surrey, and more from people she hadn't heard from in months. She made it a point to give people her address for emergency purposes, but she never expected anyone to actually use it.

            "Hi," she said when Missy twined around her leg. "You do anything all day?"

            The python just looked at her before untwining herself and heading into the living room. She would have sworn the blasted snake shook her head first.

            "Okay, just a little too much stress today," she whispered, dumping the mail on the table and reaching for the phone. Chinese sounded good tonight, not to mention the fact that she didn't feel like cooking herself.

            After she ordered, she walked into the kitchen and put a bottle of white wine in the freezer, then pulled it back out again. Alcohol and tranquilizers definitely didn't mix. 

            Thirty minutes later she was elbow deep in chow mien and fried rice, while Missy satisfied herself with chicken stuffed dumplings.

            "You know, I'd probably get jailed for animal cruelty if anyone knew I feed you human food on the sly."

            _" Don't let a little tttthhhhhing like that ssssssstop you,"_

            Marian blinked. Great, she'd thought she'd had enough episodes to last her a lifetime. "Did you just say something?"

            Missy wasn't paying her any attention, and she sighed. She was probably still high strung from not knowing what had happened to her over the past week.

            Another hour had passed when Marian shoved the last of the takeout into her fridge, after dumping out the old takeout and something unidentifiable that was sticking to the bottom of a Tupperware bowl.

            "Night, rat breath," she called into the living room as she got ready for bed. The quill was still there, a red stain against the blue of her sheets. Her first instinct was to throw it away, but she didn't. It might make a good gift for Don later on.

            Harry stared at the Gryffin that guarded Dumbledore's office. "Cockroach clusters!"

            Nothing.

            "Um, Bertie Bots! Sherbert Lemon! Chocolate Divinity!" 

            Still nothing.

            _Okay, knowing Dumbledore it has to be some kind of food._ "licorice!"

_            "_ Sassafras bars!"

The Gryffin moved.

            "He really needs to get out more," Harry muttered to himself as he entered the headmaster's office. As usual, the pictures of the previous headmasters were sleeping in their frames. A few actually seemed to have migrated to one large frame and were involved in a chess match between a sour looking old woman and a man who was a hundred if he was a day.

            "Hey, Fawkes," he said, patting the Phoenix on the head. He chirped appreciatively, a gentle note that calmed some of Harry's anxiety.

            "To what do I owe this visit, Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore asked from the other side of the room.

            Harry jumped. He hadn't seen the man sitting in a chair by the fireplace, even though he had to have walked right past him. "Hello, Professor Dumbledore. I hope I'm not disturbing you."

            Dumbledore smiled, and gestured to a chair across from him. "Nonsense, Harry. I seldom get visitors here unless they bear bad news. Please, sit. Would you like some tea?"

            Harry shook his head. "No thank you. I was wondering if I could ask you about Ms. Elvbow."

            "Ah. Ms. Elvbow is perfectly all right, Harry. She was returned home a few hours after you left her."

            Harry was confused. "Why would you let her go back to the Muggle world, Professor? Isn't she one of us?"

            "She has to make that choice herself, Harry."

            "But what if she hurts someone?" He remembered vividly blowing up his aunt.

            The headmasters voice softened slightly. " If we find she has no control over her abilities, then she will be taken by the ministry, but until then it is important to give her the choice. Unlike most wizards, she has no knowledge of what she is, and she is no longer a child whose choices can be made for them. She will decide what is best, of that I'm very sure."

            "But she's been gone for almost two weeks-"

            "Harry," Dumbledore leaned forward and rested a hand on his students shoulder. "Nothing has happened to her. The ministry is making sure of that. She has the means with which to contact us if and when she is ready too. Now, I believe you are late for Divinations."

            Dumbledore watched as Harry left his office, then sank back into his thoughts. He'd hoped that Marian would have made contact by now. The reports from the ministry stated that she had returned to her normal life without incident, and seemed to be under no threat. He wondered if she would contact them, or if she had decided to forget everything she'd seen and experienced. He would have guessed her to be stronger than that, and time was running out. The cold war between the light and dark was escalating into a hot one. The disappearances were beginning again, more slowly than before. There were rumors of dark meetings being held on the continent. If they went to war she would be drawn into it whether she wanted to be or not. They couldn't leave her defenseless in the Muggle world.

            "Make your decision, Marian," he muttered into the fireplace. "And please make it soon."

            Thank you so much for reading this!!! Special thanks goes out to Lakoma, Radcliffe-Lover, and the unsigned person who left their reviews!!!!! It's nice to hear from you guys out there!!!!!

PLEASE: if you have questions, comments, ideas, know a good bar in the Seattle Tacoma area, leave me a review!!!! I always take other peoples Ideas very seriously and try to incorporate them when I can. It's the only payment I get for this, so please feed the author  J Good reviews are placed on a shrine next to my desk for moral support! Flames will be eaten with soy sauce and rum!!!!


	9. Dreamer

"You're crazy, you know that? It's no wonder they locked you up when you were a kid."

            Marian stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. She was an ordinary woman, wearing jeans and a worn tee-shirt, who just happened to be crazier than a loon. Three weeks she'd spent torturing herself, arguing with herself, and eventually bribing herself. Two weeks of wondering what was wrong with her day in and day out. Three weeks answering letters from people she hadn't seen in years

            She leaned her head against the small mirror. Those letters had to have been the strangest thing to happen to her outside her own personal nervous breakdown. People she hadn't seen for over five years had all written to her at once, asking how she was doing, if she was all right. Cheryl had even come right out and asked if she was in the hospital again. Apparently, someone had been checking up on her, asking questions about her. She guessed it was the same people who'd kidnapped her. But why would you research someone, kidnap them, then let them go?

            "I'm cracked," she muttered, walking into her living room. "Abso-fucking-lutely cracked."

            Marian examined the quill carefully. She didn't know what type of feather it was made out of, but it had to have been dyed. She didn't know of any bird large enough to have feathers with that shade of vibrant red. It had a silver nib that was covered in flowers and vines. It looked old, and probably worth more than she could make in a lifetime. But then why would they give her something this valuable? 

            _If you want to return to Hogwarts, use this to write 'magic' on anything, and someone will be by to pick you up…_ _Remember to only use the quill if you are serious about devoting yourself to our world._

Marian looked down at the sheet of paper in front of her. She couldn't believe she was actually doing this. This proved that she was really crazy. She'd spent the better part of the past two weeks trying to locate the Leaky Cauldron. She'd searched castle registries, but almost all of them were now used as tourist attractions, and those few that weren't were private residence or hotels. She would have given up and written if off as a particularly long hallucination if it hadn't been for the quill.

            And her hair.

            _I think I would remember something like dying my hair_, she thought, only it hadn't been as simple as that. She'd first noticed it when she'd gotten home from work. Her hair, usually a dull brown, had looked different, but she couldn't place it. Don had even commented on how she was doing something different with herself. When she washed it a few days later, it was confirmed. It was like she'd washed out brown hair dye, leaving her hair a deep auburn that glinted gold in the sunlight. It was the kind of hair color that couldn't be achieved without a dye, and no matter how many times she'd washed it since then, it refused to come out. Her eyes were different now too, more silver than gray, and it scared her. People didn't change like she was in their thirties. This kind of things happened to infants, not full grown women. That's when she started believing that, even if they weren't wizards, they'd done something to her, and she needed to find out what.

            So she'd packed her few belongings into suitcases, given Don notice, and was now sitting, trying to gather up the courage to actually see if she wasn't as dumb as she felt. At least she wasn't serious enough to tell her landlady, or else she'd be out of a place to live too.

            The sad thing was that she really didn't have that much to pack. The majority of it was her books, which sat in three large boxes next to the couch, along with another box full of linen and towels. All in all, her world could collapse into four large boxes, a large suitcase, a very large snake, a pile of plants, and a small carryall.

            It was very depressing.

            "Ready Missy?" she asked. Missy was curled up next to her, and looked like she was sleeping.

            _Ready?_ she asked herself, and kissed the pendant she was wearing before tucking it back into her shirt. She picked up the quill, and wrote 'magic' as clearly as she could.

Nothing happened. No clap of thunder, no flash of lightening, no fanfare.

            Nothing.

            "Yep, absolutely cracked," she said to the bare apartment.

            "Your masters certifiable, you know that?" she asked Missy, then started pacing around the apartment. She was out of a job, with little prospects of finding another one, and she was talking to her pet python that she let roam around her apartment at will after four in the morning.

            Certifiable was too tame.

            "Oh, your ready I see. Good."

            She spun around. Merlin was standing in her living room, wearing the same dark blue robe as before. "How did you-?"

            He turned around and gestured to the small gas fireplace. " I had you connected to the flue network, in case you decided to take us up on our offer."

            Marian blinked. "You're telling me you got in here through my _fireplace_?"

            The man smiled. "You'll understand everything in time. Is this all you plan on taking with you?" he nodded towards her piled things.

            "Um, yeah," she said, then froze. "One more thing. I'll be right back," she picked up a small envelope and walked downstairs to her landlady's apartment. She sighed, then shoved it under the front door face up. It contained the last month's rent, and a letter telling her that she was leaving.

            When she got back she stopped. Everything was gone. There was no way he could have walked past her without her seeing anything, and that had been too much for one man to carry. Her apartment, her home for the past four years looked empty. Even Missy was gone.

            "Are you ready, Marian?" he asked.

            She nodded, hand clutching her pendant. It was the only thing that she ever felt really belonged to her. It was the only thing that she'd been found with as an infant. "Yeah…Dumbledore?"

            He smiled. "You remembered my name. Yes, if you will," he extended his arm.

            Calling herself all kinds of fools, she walked over to him.

            "Here you go," he said, dropping a pile of ash into her hand. "I need you to say, 'The summer room of Hogwarts' very clearly. Then throw the powder into the fireplace and dive on in."

            She stared down at her hand. Dive into her fireplace? She'd get a concussion, and then she'd have to explain how she got it. "Dive?"

            He nodded. "It's rather small, so you'll have to if you want to fit. When you get to the other side, please step into the room. Go on then," he added, as if she were a child.

            Marian took a deep breath. It was now or never. "The summer room of Hogwarts," she said as clearly as possible, and then threw the ashes into the fireplace. 

            Immediately, green flames roared up and danced there, as if waiting. "Go on," Dumbledore said again. I'll be right behind you."

            _Okay, in for a penny, in for a pound_, she said to herself before she took a flying leap.

            It was a definite relief, not to feel her head smashing into the back of the fireplace, but she didn't have time to think about that. She felt like a fish caught on a hook. Something was dragging her along at high speed, and she closed her eyes against green blur. 

            Then she slammed into something, and she stood there, breathing harder than she had in a long time.

            "Miss is here! Please miss, come in!"

            A small hand grabbed hers, and she was lead away from where she had landed. The person pulling was way shorter than she was, so she guessed it was either some kind of midget, or a very small child.

            "Miss can open her eyes now, she has arrived."

            Marian decided to take the chance and opened her eyes. She was staring at what had to be the biggest bed she'd ever seen. It was a wooden canopy bed, draped with heavy dark blur curtains, with a spread of the same color. Slowly, she let her eyes travel along the room. Her plants were sitting happily in a window, some of the larger ones suspended in midair by what she guessed was fishing line. The boxes were nowhere to be seen, neither was her suitcase. Missy, on the other hand had claimed that bed, which was about twice the size of her queen size, for herself. The only thing she didn't like was all the blue. In actuality, she hated blue, with a passion. Nothing in her apartment had been blue. She even went as far as to reupholster the couch to get rid of it.

            "I hope it is to your liking."

            Marian jumped. Dumbledore was right behind her, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses. "Professor Snape informed us that you had a great love of blue."

            _He would, vindictive bastard, _she thought_._ She took one step, and then another. The room was larger than her living room at home. The walls were bare, showing the stonework beneath, but that just made it even more real.

            "Miss likes her room?"

            Marian looked down. "Holy-!"

            "It's quite all right," Dumbledore said from behind her. "This is Binky, one of our house elves."

            Standing in front of her was an honest to goodness elf. The small creature couldn't have been more than three feet tall, with only a wisp of hair on her head and large purple eyes. It was wrapped in an odd looking towel, a clash of orange, red, green and silver. To top it all of were her ears, two large protrusions at the top of her head that twitched excitedly.

            "Is there something wrong with Binky, Miss?" the elf asked, looking from her to Dumbledore.

            Marian shook her head. "No-no!" she kneeled down, so she was eye level with Binky. "My names Marian, Binky," she extended her hand.

            The house elf looked like it was about to burst. "Pleased to meet you Miss." it said with a small curtsy. 

            She extended her hand. "Marian," she corrected.

            Timidly, the house elf shook her hand. "Marian," she repeated. "Would Mis- Marian like anything today?"

            Marian shook her head. "I'm fine, Binky."

            The elf nodded. "Then Binky will be going back to the kitchens," she announced, and with a loud 'pop', she was gone.

            "I believe you will find all your possessions put away," Dumbledore said, gesturing to a large armoire. "The bathroom is through there," he pointed to a heavy looking door. "Please try to sleep. I will not think to awaken you for breakfast, which is in a little more than four hours. Would you like to be summoned for lunch?"

            Marian stood up, and nodded quietly. She still couldn't believe this. She was really here.

            "Then, if that is all, I will leave you to get your rest," the man turned and headed for the door.

            "This is really real, isn't it?" she asked, taking a small step towards him.

            Dumbledore turned around and smiled gently. For a moment he looked like the very picture of a caring grandfather. "My dear, this is more real than anything else," with that, he left.

            Marian stood, staring at the fireplace. The _large_ fireplace, she corrected herself, which at the moment was filled with a cheerfully crackling fire. She could have stood in the thing without a problem. In fact, she had. She guessed that they were that big to accommodate the flue network thing Dumbledore had been talking about earlier. As a method of transportation, it had the Tube beat hands down.

            She practically skipped over to the closet, to find all her clothes neatly hung or folded. The house elf had been busy then, she couldn't have been more than a minute or two behind her things.  "Wonder what else the little thing got up to," she muttered, examining the room more. 

            On the nightstand next to the bed was a light. At least, she thought it was a light. It was a globe, that hung there serenely over the dark wood. "Okay," Marian said aloud, and ran her hand under the globe. Nothing. she cupped her hands and ran then around it, but encountered nothing.  She'd wait until later to figure out how to close that. All that was left was the bathroom. She half expected to see a hole in the floor, which lead to this place's moat, but nothing prepared her for what she saw when she opened the door.

            It was warm, surprisingly so after the slight chill of her room. The room itself was white and blue tile, in the middle of which was a _pond_, that was the only name she could think of for it.  She walked into the room, wincing as the cold tile burned her feet. This room was almost as big as her bedroom. Against a far wall was a large mirror hung over a single sink. Another door lead to what she guessed was the toilet. The fixtures looked like blue stonework, as did a cushioned bench against one wall. Stacked on the bench were her ratty old towels, next to a pile of towels that had to have come straight out of a hedonists dream. She ran a hand over them, and sighed. That had to be the softest material she'd ever felt. A large bank of windows revealed that it was still dark outside. The only thing that broke the illusion of the bathroom was a woven basket, seated discreetly in one corner.

            "I've died and gone to heaven," she said, and did a twirl in the middle of the room before walking over to inspect the bathtub. It was at least eight feet long and ten feet across, and she guessed that she could have stood up in it and the water would only come to the base of her neck. There were four spigots, one on each side, and each was shaped a little differently. "Guess it makes filling you up easier."

            Curious, it was already filled with crystal clear, warm water. She turned one of the handles, and laughed when purple bubbles began pouring out. The smell of lilac permeated the room. 

            Marian sighed to herself and decided what the hell, and began stripping off her clothes. In no time she was immersed in the water, floating lazily on her back. "If this is a dream, I'm gonna be real pissed when my alarm clock goes off," she muttered, and rolled onto her stomach to do a few laps. Doing laps in a bathtub, amazing!

            She didn't know how long she'd spent in the bathtub, but the fact that the sky wasn't looking as dark as it used to was enough of a warning for her. She climbed out of the bathtub and yanked one of Dumbledore's towels. Towel? You could call it a blanket. She wrapped it around her, anticipating the cold. She dried off as much as she could before opening the door and running to the closet. She was dressed in record time and slid under the covers with a sigh. The curtains were already pulled, and she snuggled into the smooth sheets.

            Yep, she was really gonna be pissed when she woke up.

            _"This really is for your own good, Marian."_

_           Marian tried not to cry as the wheeled her into the room. She knew what was coming. It was Thursday, and that meant that it was the _day_. Despite herself she felt a tear leak out the corner of her eye as they moved her onto another table. Orderly Kirkpatrick smiled at her sadly, he always did on the _day_, and patted her on the knee. "You'll be fine, sweetie," he said calmly before moving away._

_            She fought the urge to struggle. If she did that they'd just drug her up, and then she wouldn't know what was happening to her. It wasn't her fault that the ghost on her floor kept bugging her, teasing her, yelling at her every time she tried to sleep. She hadn't meant to tear down that picture, she just wanted that little boy to stop making faces at her and whispering to her. She told Dr. Peter but he didn't believe her. He just recommended more medication, different medication, then sent her back to her little white cell._

_           Marian jerked as the straps were tightened around her stomach, and tried to imagine she was somewhere else. She thought of her parents, imagined they were these smiling, blond people who would hug her and tell her stories. They hadn't abandoned her, they hadn't left her wrapped in a coat on the side of a road in Arizona._

_            "Okay, now Marian, just relax," Nurse Honnas said as she spread the gel over her temples. The first time they did this she asked why, and one of the nurses said it was to keep her from getting burned. _

_            "Open up," one of the orderlies was holding the bit, and she thought for a moment about not letting them put it in, but she knew better now. Any trouble, and she'd be drugged. Any resistance, and that needle would come out and take away her will. Obediently, she opened her mouth and let them slip the piece of plastic in._

_            Then she felt it, a jolt that locked all her muscles, she couldn't see, she couldn't breathe, she could think of anything but the fact that it felt like she was about to shatter into a million pieces…_

            She woke sitting up in bed, damn near hyperventilating and covered in sweat. She hadn't had a dream about Shady Hill in years.

            As her breathing steadied out, she looked around. She wasn't in her bedroom, it was too dark. She put out a hand, felt material, and pulled it to the side. Light came streaming in through the crack and she gasped. She was in the room she'd fallen asleep in, complete with Missy dozing in a patch of sunlight.

            She hadn't been dreaming.

            "Holy shit in a hand basket," she said, jumping out of bed and running to the window. She had a view of a forest, which was still in gloom despite the brightness of the day. She could see the edge of what looked like a huge birdcage, and could barely make out the shapes of people as they milled along the grounds.

            Someone knocked at the door, and she looked down at herself. It probably wouldn't be the best thing to open a door wearing a spaghetti strap top and boxer shorts. "Um, hang on," she yelled, hoping they could hear her as she dashed to the closet. She pulled out her robe and grimaced. Good way to make a great impression. The robe had been a gift from Don that he'd bought back with him from his last trip to Korea. It was black silk, with heavy silver embroidery and a giant silver dragon on the back. Steeling herself, she opened the door.

            Thankfully, there was a woman on the other side. She was wearing an ornate green robe with an amber cameo, her gray hair in a severe bun. "Ms. Elvbow?" she asked, giving her a quick once over.

            "Yeah. Hi," she answered, brushing her hair out of her face and feeling like an idiot. 

            The woman didn't look impressed by her friendliness. "I am Professor McGonagall. Professor Dumbledore sent me to make sure you would be up in time for lunch."

            "Oh, yeah, come in," she opened the door, and McGonagall walked in.

            She brushed her hair out of her face again, the stuff seemed to have a mind of its own. "I'm Marian, by the way," she said awkwardly, extending her hand. The Professor took it, smiling a little at her discomfort. 

            "Minerva," she said. "Well, you have perhaps twenty minutes before noon. Professor Dumbledore thought it would be best if you two ate in private."

            The man was an angel. "Thank you," Marian walked to her closet and began poking around. After a minute she turned around, and she knew she was blushing. "Um, what should I wear?"

            McGonagall laughed. "Anything you like, child. I'll wait in the hall while you dress," with that she swept out of the room.

            Marian pulled out a pair of pants and an old red sweater that was about five sizes too big and went clear to her knees. She washed and dressed in record time and was at the door in less than four minutes.

            Professor McGonagall, for her part, looked a little stunned at her speed. "I expected to be kept longer, but no matter. This way please."

            Marian was stunned at the place. It looked like the whole thing was made up of stone. "So this really is a school," she mused.

            "Hogwarts was built over a thousand years ago, Ms. Elvbow," McGonagall said as the walked. "Originally, it was a castle, and over time it has changed to fit the needs of the students and faculty."

            Marian was already drifting again. They walked up stairs, down stairs, past colonnades with ornate scrollwork. A few times they were passed by groups of children wearing black robes, some of which were open to reveal their shirts and pants beneath. All of them stopped to stare at her as they walked by.

            "Have I grown another head or something?" she asked after a young girl walked into a wall.

            Professor McGonagall laughed. "Most of the children here are used to seeing adults in robes. Your outfit is something of a shock."

            "Wait until they see me in a bikini."

            "A bikini, Ms. Elvbow? What is a bikini?"

            Marian stared at the other woman for a minute, but she hadn't been joking. "Nothing," she answered, "I'll explain it to you later."

            Finally, they came to a stop at a dead in. The only thing in sight was the statue of a griffin, wings raised.

            "Sassafras bars," McGonagall said.

            The statue moved, revealing a door behind it. "This is Professor Dumbledore's office," she said. "He is waiting for you," with that, she turned around and left.

            Marian fought the urge to gulp as she turned the handle and walked into the office. The first thing she noticed were pictures, dozens of them, probably hundreds, each holding a different person. Most of them looked like they were sleeping. As she watched, some of them started moving.

            She blinked, and blinked again. They were definitely moving. Some were staring at her in open curiosity, while others seemed to disappear in their frames and reappear in others. For a split second she was back in the Arizona Museum of Art, and that little boy was jumping from picture to picture, sticking his tongue out at her, making raspberries, teasing her…

            "I understand that they can be quite disturbing for a Muggle."

            To her credit, she didn't jump. She had the distinct impression that he liked making people jump, which was why he snuck up on her all the time. "Is it real?"

            Dumbledore smiled. "Yes. Magical pictures contain something of the person they are made of. In an exceptional painting it can be an exact double of the person, including their habits, personality, pet peeves."

            Tentatively, she reached out and touched one of the canvases. It felt just like any other canvas, hard, dry. She watched as a little old man reached on and put his hand on hers. She recoiled when she felt something push against her.

            "They're quite harmless, Marian," he reassured her. "Come, I believe Binky has set out an excellent lunch."

            Binky had really outdone herself, at least in Marian's opinion. Lunch consisted of a pile of roast beef sandwiches, French fries, punch, and a stack of what looked like glazed muffins. There was no way the elf could expect the two of them to finish it all.

            "I believe you must have many questions to ask me," Dumbledore said after they had polished off their first sandwiches.

            Marian nodded. "Professor Mcgonagall told me a little about the history of this place, but I wasn't really paying attention."

            Dumbledore nodded. "Hogwarts was built over a thousand years ago by the greatest wizards of the age. It was designed to be a place where young people could go to master their abilities before being let back into society. At the time there was a great stigma attached to anything that concerned magic, so boarding students soon became their parents only defense against suspicion from their neighbors."

            Marian thought back to her limited history classes. "You're talking about the Crusades, right?"

            His face went grave. "And the inquisitions. There were times when our small communities grew so large that they couldn't keep themselves hidden from Muggles - that's a wizarding term for non-magic users. A child floating over someone's house would be a dead giveaway. So, Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw, and --- Hufflepuff began Hogwarts. Children were sorted into four different houses according to their personalities, strengths, and weaknesses, and they would learn the basic tenants of magic."

            She looked around, this place was way too huge to just be missed by people.

            "You're wondering how this castle remains hidden from Muggles? There are several charms on this place. A Muggle who just came upon it would see and experience little more than a ruined castle, one that is deemed unsafe. If that didn't fool them, they would feel a need to leave the area, remember a meeting or another important function. A variation of such a charm was used on you."

            "Me?" she looked down at herself.

            "Yes. It is known as a _Contatis_ charm. It is designed to be a warning, nothing more. But it was also not designed to be used on people. In you, the charm produced pain whenever you came near something magical. When you were brought here, we removed the charm."

            Marian thought back. Usually she had a few twinges at least once a day, nothing serious. But since waking up in her apartment, she hadn't felt anything. Not a single twinge. "You mean I'm cured?"

            "Yes," Dumbledore smiled. "I believe you have already started figuring out some other things for yourself."

            For a long time Marian couldn't speak. She was cured. No more having to drug herself up just to get some sleep. Then she thought of something else. She remembered the ghost woman, the pictures moving. She wasn't crazy. There was nothing wrong with her at all. This was real, she wasn't hallucinating. At that moment she'd never felt happier. She barely restrained herself from kissing Dumbledore.

            "Which brings us to yet another issue, Marian. When you were given the quill, you were asked to only use it if you were willing to commit yourself to our world. Are you?"

            Marian nodded. "Even if I wasn't, I don't have anything else to go back to. I quit my job, everything I own is in my room."

            "My next question is what you plan on doing. You were born in America, or at least that's where you spent the majority of your life. You have the choice of returning to the States for your training, or you can choose to remain here. I understand that you were in the middle of changing your citizenship in the muggle world."

            "Yeah, I lived and worked in London, and there was nothing for me in the US," she reached up and began playing with her pendant through her sweater. "I guess that means you're stuck with me."

            "Excellent!" Dumbledore rose. "Then welcome to Hogwarts, Marian Elvbow."

            Marian smiled. "It's good to be here," then she frowned. "Everyone I've seen here is about fifteen. Will I be taking classes with kids?"

            "I don't think so, unless you would like to. There are some classes that can be given to adults, but those are painfully limited. If you like, you can read through the material and receive help where you need it."

            She grinned. "No wizard night school?"

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for reading this!!!! Special candy coated thanks goes out to Nataly Ravenlock, Fate's Child and readerw for the great reviews!!!!

Remember to leave feedback on the way out!!! it's my only reward for doing this, so feed the author!!!! All reviews are placed on a shrine next to my desk for moral support. Flames will be eaten with soy sauce and rum!!!!

            __


	10. Diagon

            Marian coughed as she came to a stop. It was the second time she'd traveled through their flue network, and she still needed to get used to it.

            "You might wanna move, Ms," a man said, taking her hand and pulling her out of the fireplace. A second later a large shape landed where she had been standing.

            "Good ta see ya, Golling," Hagrid said, slapping the man on the shoulder.

            The man smiled and rubbed his shoulder. "Likewise, Hagrid. Don't usually see you here this early in the year."

            "Here on Hogwarts business, Golling," Hagrid answered. "I'll talk ta ya later."

            Marian watched Hagrid warily. She still hadn't gotten over the shock of seeing someone that tall. While she and Dumbledore were talking about how they would help her begin her studies, he'd walked in. It wasn't every day that you saw someone who was easily nine feet tall. He was nice though, and had jumped at the chance to take her "shopping", as Dumbledore put it, for everything she would need.

            "This 'ere's Diagon Alley, Ms. Elvbow, best place to shop for supplies and what not. First stops gonna be Gringotts," he said, directing her towards a large building that seemed to me in the middle of the alley. "You'll need to get money for everything."

            "Marian," she corrected distractedly. She'd never seen so many strange things in her life. There were shops upon shops, windows packed full of things she'd never heard of, or even imagined possible. What amazed her the most was the ease with which these people moved around. All this was normal to them, and she was the odd man out. Absently she wondered what the exchange rate was from pounds to whatever kind of money they used. Thankfully, she bought everything she'd had with her, including some jewelry she didn't mind parting with if it came to that. 

            "Ere' we are," Hagrid said, holding open the door.

            The first thing that entered her mind when she walked in was dust. There seemed to be a fine layer of it everywhere, even on the things, _goblins_, she corrected herself, themselves. They all seemed to be ignoring her and Hagrid too, almost running into them in their haste to get where they were going.

            "Can I help you?"

            She'd been so busy watching everything around them that she hadn't noticed that they'd stopped in front of one of the desks. The goblin was staring expectantly at them. The voice was deeper than she would have expected, coming out of something so small.

            " I need to exchange currency," she said quickly, and for a moment she remembered the first time she'd done this in London. 

            The goblin looked her up and down. "And which currency will you be exchanging?"

            "I have pounds, and some other items that I'm sure will be worth something."

            He nodded. "Follow me, please."

            As she and Hagrid followed the small form she wondered if she would get enough to pay for everything herself. Dumbledore had been kind enough to allow her the use of Hogwarts credit line if she needed it, but she'd rather not. No sense in becoming that dependent early on.

            The goblin lead them to a small room, and he sat behind a desk that contained, among other things, a set of scales that looked like it had come out of the dark ages. "The pounds first, if you will."

            She opened the large bag she was carrying and withdrew several stacks of money. Twenty-three thousand pounds, the whole of her savings for the past ten years. 

            To her credit, the goblin looked impressed at the amount, and began the painstaking process of counting every single note. Even though he was fast, and after what Dumbledore had told her, accurate, it still made her want to fidget.

            "You said you had other items you would like to exchange."

            Marian took out a small box, and handed it to the goblin. It contained one hundred diamonds, of various different shapes and qualities, but nothing large enough to be considered substantial; in fact, she could have held them all in the palm of her hand with room to spare. She'd bought them in India years ago, after she'd gone wandering to recover from loosing her spot on the Olympic team. The bag had cost her about a hundred US, so she had no idea what they were worth now.

            She and Hagrid watched as the goblin inspected each and every one of the jewels before weighing them individually on the scales. 

            Several more items followed the box. An antique broach that had been a gift from someone she couldn't remember, an unset ruby that she'd kept in a safe deposit box for emergencies, and several smaller jewels that probably wouldn't be worth the time to get them out of her bank.

            "Is this all?" the goblin asked as she handed over the last small package.

            For a moment Marian let her hand travel to the pendant she wore around her neck. She'd taken it to several jewelers over the years, and none had been able to tell her what kind of stone it was. They'd all tried to buy it from her though. She let her hand drop. She wasn't going to turn it over to anyone. "That's it."

            Hagrid leaned over. "That's quite a lot of things you're partin' with, Marian. Dumbledore said you could-"

            "I'd rather start out on my own, Hagrid," she said, cutting him off. 

            He looked like he was about to say something, but he just turned back around. They watched as the goblin began adding up the notations he'd been making in a large ledger.

            "The total amount exchanged comes out to seven thousand sixty six galleons, forty nine sickles, and twelve knuts."

            "Is that good?" she whispered to Hagrid as the goblin started making more notations.

            Hagrid nodded. "Real good."

            "Now, would you like to open an account at Gringotts?"

            "Sure."

            After what seemed like an eternity of filling out forms and signing things in what looked suspiciously like blood, she and Hagrid finally emerged from Gringotts. She had two hundred Galleons in her bag and no idea on where to go.

            "Dumbledore gave me a list," she said almost to herself, digging through her bag. She found the piece of parchment and began rattling the list off to Hagrid:

~ Three Sets of Plain Work Robes****

~ One Plain Pointed Hat For Day Wear****

~ One Pair Dragon-Hide Gloves****

~ One Wand****

~ One Standard Size 2 Pewter Cauldron

~ The Standard Book of Spells Grade 1 by Miranda Goshawk   
~ A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch   
~ A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshott   
~ Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling   
~ One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore   
~ Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger   
~ Fantastic Beasts and Where toFind Them by Newt Scamander   
~ The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble****

            "Please tell me you know where to get all this, because I don't have a clue."

            Hagrid smiled. "You'll probably want ta get all the big things outta the way, so it looks like we should head to the cauldron shop."

            Apparently the shop was at the other end of Diagon Alley, because they started making their way there. She watched as people greeted Hagrid as if it were normal to see someone his size walking around.

            Another two hours passed while they gathered everything on the list, and some things that weren't. Apparently Hagrid knew things she'd need that weren't on the list, and they raided the stationary shop for everything from ink to quills. At the moment they were stored in a leather carrying case that must have been charmed to keep to amount of space it took up small, because it looked empty from where she was standing, and she'd witnessed the short man behind the counter putting everything they'd bought there into different pockets. She'd wandered into a clothing shop and stared at some of the more ornate robes and dresses there before buying the standard plain work robes. She would have left it at that, but Hagrid refused to let her get away without buying some robes for herself, and practically hauled her back into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. In the end she relented and bought several earth toned robes, shirts, and skirts, and a few in green since the color seemed to agree with her. No sense in having students running into walls while she was wandering Hogwarts.

            "Satisfied, Hagrid?" she asked as they walked out of the store.

            The giant smiled. "Knew you'd see reason in the end."

            Marian snorted. "Like I would have been able to get out with you standing like a roadblock in front of the door." She looked down. While she carried three large bags, which were a little heavy, Hagrid was lugging everything else, including what had to be about twenty pounds of books. He carried them as easily as if they were pillows, though. _Guess most of that underneath that coat has to be muscle_.

            Across from them was another shop that was different from the rest. It was all silver and pastels, and a sign over the front door read Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. "Let my buy you a sundae, Hagrid."

            The big man blushed. "No, you don't have ta,"

            "I want to. Please," she added.

            It didn't take long before they were up to their elbows in ice cream. She'd ordered a large triple cheesecake raspberry sundae without realizing how large it would be, and almost laughed herself sick as a teenager tried to carry out a bowl so large and full that hid his torso and face from view. The first layer of whip cream had to be a foot thick. Thankfully, Hagrid had only ordered a soda, and was helping her demolish the large amount of ice cream and cake.

            "If ya don't mind my askin'," he said when the bowl was half gone. "What'd ya have all that money saved up fer?"

            Marian slowed down her chewing to give herself time to think. What had she been saving that money for? "I grew up really poor, Hagrid. I guess that always made me afraid of being poor again, so I saved everything I could. I actually stopped checking my savings account some time ago, so I didn't even know I'd had that much saved."

            "Ya weren't plannin' on usin' it fer something?"

            She shook her head and took another bite of sundae. "No. I just felt good knowing that if I needed money, I'd have it. I'm a penny pincher at the best of times, and it's been just me and Missy for years. I don't have a car, pay mortgage, or anything else. I wasn't a citizen, so I didn't pay taxes outside of what was on items I bought. I was just…" _hiding_… "Being careful."

            The big man nodded, seeming satisfied with her answer. 

            They ate in silence for a few minutes before he asked another question. "What else were ya gonna give Sparkers."

            "Excuse me?"

            "The goblin, his name was Sparkers. Ye were gonna give him something, but ye changed yer mind. What was it?"

            Marian put down her spoon, reached into her shirt, and took out the pendant. It was the only thing her parents had left her apparently, with the instruction that it be given to her on her tenth birthday. Most of the time she was surprised that she'd gotten back at all. It was a large, emerald cut stone, about two inches long and an inch wide, that was a brilliant purple with a sliver of vibrant crimson in the center. It had been set in silver, and she'd hung it on a thin silver chain with the first money she'd earned. The stone glinted in the sunlight for a moment before she put it in Hagrid's large hands.

            He examined it for a moment, then stiffened. "What is it?" Marian asked.

            Hagrid looked from the stone, then to her. "It's a dragon's tear, Ms Elvbow.."

            "Marian," she corrected for the third time that day, then stopped. " Dragon's tear? As in a flying, fire breathing lizard dragon?"

            He nodded. "They're pretty rare, 'specially now a days. Dragon's blood pendants ye can find down Knockturn Alley, but tears? And it's so perfect too. It must've been dropped into a mold."

            She was confused. "Why do you say that?"

            "Once the tear dries, it can't be altered. Nothin' but the strongest spells can even chip 'em. I've never seen one this perfect though." He handed the necklace back. "Ye probably could've bought the whole a Gringotts with that."

            "Better keep it out of sight, then," she said, forcing cheer into her voice as she tucked it back into her sweater. "So, why are you at Hogwarts?"

            Hagrid looked so embarrassed by the question that she felt guilty. "Nevermind, I didn't mean-"

            "It's all right," Hagrid interrupted. "I'm keeper of keys and grounds, and fer the past two years er so I've been teachin' the Care of Magical Creatures course," he blushed. "I always wanted ta teach, and Dumbledore finally let me give it a shot."

            Marian nodded, and took out the crumbled list and looked it over one more time. " I still need a wand."

            Hagrid had the last spoonful of ice cream halfway to his mouth when he smiled. "That's at Ollivander's. I was savin' him fer last."

            The two of them gathered up their bags and walked until Hagrid turned her towards a small shop tucked into a corner beside the building where they entered the alley. 

            "Maker of Fine wands since 382 BC?" Marian whistled. "That guy must be older than dirt."

            Hagrid laughed. "He's been runnin' this shop fer as long as I can remember. Fer as long as my Dad could remember too."

            The way in which he said it meant that Hagrid was a lot older than she thought. 

            The inside of Ollivnder's was cool, with a single large counter opposite the door and a small chair and table against a wall. Every other space seemed to be filled with little boxes, stacked up to the ceiling.

            "I don't believe I've seen you before."

            Marian followed the source of the voice until she saw a man high on a ladder, his arms full of boxes that he was carefully stacking. He wasn't looking at her, but since there was no one else in the shop she assumed he was talking to her. "Hello."

            The man turned to look at them. "Hello Hagrid."

            "Ollivander. this 'ere's Marian. She's in need of a wand."

            The man's odd shaped eyes settled on her, and he placed the last box in the stack before starting down the ladder. "Marian. I don't believe we've met," he extended his gnarled hand. " Ollivander, Marian," he turned her hand over after giving it a firm shake, and began tracing the calluses there. "Used to working with your hands, eh?"

            Marian glanced at Hagrid, but he didn't seem fazed by the other man's actions. "Yeah. I'm supposed to get a wand."

            Ollivander nodded, and headed back behind the counter for a moment before emerging with a slim box. He opened it, and she saw a slim wand sitting on a tuft of cotton. "There you go. Give it a whirl."

            She was too busy looking at the wand to notice Hagrid and Ollivander moving backwards, giving her a wide berth. Gingerly, she picked up the wand and tapped it on the counter.

            She leaped back when she saw the large burn mark on the once smooth top of the counter.

            "No, not the right one," Ollivander muttered, taking the wand out of her limp grasp and returning it to the box. "Maybe something in ash."

            He presented her with another wand, this one slightly gray. Reluctantly, she picked it up and flicked it.

            Marian had never been so embarrassed in her life. She and Hagrid had been in Ollivander's for ten minutes, and she'd never seen such a mess. Boxes were strewn everywhere, papers were flying, and the small chair in the corner had been reduced to kindling. Ollivander, for his part, didn't seem fazed much. He just kept giving her different wands to try. Thankfully, the amount of destruction she could cause was swiftly decreasing, so hopefully that meant that she was getting close.

            "Maybe I just don't need a wand," she said. 

            Ollivander looked offended. "Nonsense. Every wizard or witch needs a wand. Some just take a little more fine tuning than others before they can find the right one," with that the shop owner disappeared into the back of the shop.

            "This was a bad idea, Hagrid, look at the mess I'm making. It will take him days to put everything right."

            Hagrid just smiled. " "e's used te it, so don't let all this get ya down."

            "Ah! I think I've found it," Ollivander reappeared with another box. "I've had this one for some time. I always wondered who it would claim."

            He opened the box, and took out the wand. "Solid ebony, 10 ¾ inches long, with a core of ridgeback heartstring."

            Marian took the wand and gasped. A rush of heat went through her, starting from her stomach and moving up to her head and down to her toes. It felt like the first swallow of brandy when it hit the stomach.

            "Ah, very good."

            Marian blinked lazily. "What?"

            Ollivander smiled. "That, dear lady, is your new wand."

            She looked down at the long slender wand. "How do you know."

            "Mostly because everything's still in one piece," Hagrid laughed.

            Ollivander took the wand and put it back in it's box. "That will be eight galleons please."

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

            "Thanks for taking me shopping Hagrid."

            Marian watched as he dumped the cauldron and bags on her bed. "No trouble at all. Well, I'll be goin then," before he made it to the door he stopped. "Hey there Missy! How've you been?" Marian watched as Hagrid picked up the heavy snake and held her up to his face. " How's this room treatin ya?"

            She watched, fascinated. Missy usually tolerated people, but didn't let other people handle her. At the moment she was totally relaxed and began wrapping herself around the large man.

            After a few minutes he set the python on the bed. "She's a good snake."

            Marian snorted. "Yeah, until you live with her, then she lets all her little demons out."

            After Hagrid ducked out her door she started sorting through everything. Apparently Binky had been busy, because a large bookshelf and a desk were now in one corner. Most of the lower shelves were already taken up by her books, but there was a shelf right at shoulder level that was still empty. Marian glanced at the clock sitting on the mantel. It was almost four o'clock, which meant that dinner would be in a few hours. Most of those were spent arranging everything, hanging up robes, finding a place to put her cauldron, and doing other little things. She put the key to her vault at Gringotts in the small box Dumbledore had given her for it. It still made her laugh when the lid popped open at her password (tit-mouse). Finally, she just sat in the middle of her bed, holding her wand. It wasn't heavy, but it wasn't exactly light either. Carefully, she passed it in front of her and gave it a good flick.

            She jumped when the candles on her desk flew across the room and hit the far wall. She dropped her wand and looked at it guiltily.

            _Okay, note to self, do NOT play with wand until you know what you're doing._

            Missy examined the wand with her tongue, and looked expectantly at her mistress. "What? You want one too?"

            Marian got up from the bed and headed for the bathroom, planning on taking a nice, long, hot bath before facing the masses.

            "You have nothing to worry about," Dumbledore had told her before setting her loose with Hagrid. "You will be introduced to the students, that is all. I believe you are a little too old for the sorting hat."

            With the assistance of Binky, her bathroom and bedroom had been stripped of everything blue while she and Hagrid were out. The spigots in the bathroom were still stonework, but they were now tannish, more a light soapstone than anything, and that suited her just fine. She turned on the closest faucets and set the temperature, and watched as the others rumbled to life. In no time the bathtub was filled, and she sank into the hot water. Hopefully, she wouldn't be red when she got out.

            "Okay, I've tried you," she said, pointing to a long necked faucet. "How about you?" she swam over to a squat one and turned the handle. Yellow and orange bubbles came pouring out, and the scent of honeysuckle permeated the room.

            Marian floated listlessly in the water, wondering how she was going to fit into this new world. It didn't seem all that bad. In fact, in the short time she'd been there she'd felt more at home than she had in a long time.

            As she floated something bumped against her, and she screeched. She stood up and began looking around the tub. Swimming quickly away from her was the brown form of Missy.

            "You don't take baths with me, idiot," she said as she swam to the other end of the tub. One there she began the process of heaving the python out, a task that was made the more difficult by the fact that Missy _really_ wanted to stay in.

            "Fine! Fine!" she yelled as Missy once again allowed the front of her body to fall into the tub after Marian had succeeded in getting the back part out. "You wanna swim, fine! If you go blind because of the soap, don't blame me!" That said, she picked up a handful of soap and began washing her hair.

            _ Stupid snake._

            She quickly finished washing and climbed out of the tub, glaring at Missy as she kept swimming lazily. Marian smirked, and pushed down on the lever that emptied the tub. The water began receding so fast that for a minute she was worried that Missy would go down the drain with the water, but to her relief the snake just settled to the bottom.

            Marian watched her pet flounder for a moment before she reared and dragged her large form out of the tub.

            _"That wasn't fair, you know!"_

"Did you say something?" Marian asked absently as she grabbed a towel. Of course Missy hadn't said anything. Snakes couldn't-

            "_I said that wasn't fair!"_

-talk.

            Marian turned around slowly. Missy was coiled next to the tub, glaring at her. "Did-"

            _"I think this place is bad for your IQ."_

"Holy shit, she talks!"

            "_Big deal, so do you."_

            In light of everything that had happened to her over the past three weeks, Marian knew she shouldn't be surprised. Why shouldn't animals talk in a world of wizards? "Um, how come you never spoke to me before," she asked, trying to stay calm.

            "_You never wanted me to. You would just think you were getting sick again."_

_            "_So you know about that?"

_            "I've heard you rant about it for the past two years. I know just about everything you know."_

            Now that thought was more than a little disturbing. "Kay. So, what's your name."

            _"Missyla."_

            "That's what I named you!"

            _"That's what I told you to name me."_

            "Okay, Missy. This is something I _really_ don't need right now, so could you not talked to me until I get back?" Marian tried not to sound like she was begging, but she was. Her life was getting stranger and stranger as time went on.

            _"My scales are sealed."_

            "Okay, remember, you are not going crazy," Marian repeated to herself as she slipped on underwear and a bra. She was not going to go commando, not that anyone would notice with the bagginess of the robes she'd bought. Which gave her something else to worry about. What the hell was she going to wear? It irked her that she actually cared. Usually, she just threw on a shirt and pants and left it at that, so why was she caring now?

            _Maybe because you really want these people to like you?_ She asked herself as she pulled out a dark green robe. It was velvet, and it flattered her hair, her complexion, and her eyes. But she eyed the silver fastening with misgivings. Would that be too flashy for dinner?

_            "Just put that damned thing on already!_"

"I thought your scales were sealed!"

            _"Snakes prerogative."_

            Marian growled. Now her pet was mouthing off to her.

            Wonderful.

Thanks for reading my drivel!!! Special cheese cake ice cream thanks goes out to Nataly Ravenlock and go-seaward for their reviews!!!! 

PS Thanks for giving me Hufflepuffs name go-seaward J


	11. First Days

"Have you seen her yet?" Hermione asked at dinner.   
Harry shook his head. Dumbledore had told him earlier that Marian was at Hogwarts, but he hadn't caught so much as a glimpse of her yet. Some of the other students were talking about a strange woman walking the halls with professor McGonnagall, but that was all.   
"Don't worry Harry," Ron said comfortingly. "She'll show up."   
Harry tried to smile, but he couldn't really manage it. He was worried about her, ever since he'd seen her in the hospital wing. "I know, it's just..."   
He trailed off, and both his friends turned to look at the professor's table. Professor Calafas had just entered, with a woman in tow. It took them a moment to realize that it was Marian.   
"See Harry, told you not to worry," Ron said. "She looks a lot better than last time."  
That was an understatement. She didn't just look better, she looked _different._ It wasn't just the fact that she was dressed like a wizard, there was something else about her that he couldn't place.  
"Earth to Harry. Are you all right?"   
Harry turned to Hermione. "Fine," he muttered, and began eating again. 

Marian bid goodnight to Professor Flitwick and closed her door with a sigh of relief. Dinner hadn't been nearly as bad as she thought it would be. She'd been introduced to the rest of the staff, each of which greeted her politely. Professor Dumbledore had acted as a kind of buffer, asking her opinion on subjects, explaining different concepts to her. Even though she usually got lost about five words into a conversation, the subjects were fascinating. Politics, ethics, spells, all were passed smoothly one person to another with the ease of long practice. After dinner, Flitwick had volunteered to escort her back to her room. It was a great tactic for getting to know a lot of people in a little time. It allowed her to really meet each of the professors without being overwhelmed by all of them at once.   
"Hey large-body," she called. Missy was laying in front of the fire with a distinct bulge in her middle. "I see you got fed too." Marian paused. "You didn't eat one of those house elves, did you?"  
The python lifted her head. "Ttthhey're too sssskiny ffffor my tassstesss."  
"Good to know. So what was the unfortunate animal?"  
"HHHagrid dropped a hhhealthy rat by afffter you lefffft."  
Good old Hagrid. "Nice guy. Most people just run from you screaming."   
"Hhhe'ssss too big to eat."  
She raised one eyebrow. "And me?"  
"Too sssalty."  
Marian didn't know whether to be pleased or offended, so she chose the former. "Thanks, I guess," she reached down to run a hand over the snakes head, and sighed. "If only you had fur."  
Marian turned, so she didn't catch Missy's expression of disgust. All in all, she didn't know if she could deal with that on top of everything else. It would take a little more getting used to before she could just hold a conversation with her pet without getting goose bumps.  
"So, Missy. How have I been for an owner?"  
Slowly, the python uncurled herself and slithered across the floor. "You've been better than mosssst would hhhhave. Not many hhhumansss would hhhave taken in a sssnake from the sssstreet."  
"So you didn't mind the mice and rats?"  
"Not at all."  
"Good. I've always been afraid you wanted something else to eat."  
She could have sworn the snake smiled. "Thhhhat'ssss not to sssay I wont eat hhhuman fffoood ifff and when it'ssss offfered."  
By this time Marian was already in her tee shirt and boxers. "I'll keep that in mind. So, I'm supposed to sit in on potions and transfigurations tomorrow," she grabbed three books off the bookshelf and jumped on the bed. "Care to help me study?"  
Missy curled up in a corner of the bed. "No thhanksss."

Professor Snape didn't look up when the door to his classroom opened. Most students only came in seconds before the class was due to start to avoid being around him longer than absolutely necessary, and with over ten minutes left before class started, it must have been a lost student.  
"I thought class started soon?"  
Snape looked up. Marian Elvbow was standing in the doorway, bag in hand. "Most of my students dislike my class, so they stay away as long as humanly possible."  
She looked...shocked. "Why? I read through the book last night and I think it's fascinating."  
It was Snape's turn to be shocked. Most people didn't have the patience or understanding to handle potions, not to mention the fact that most of his students were too busy looking at each other than at what they were doing. "Really?"  
For a moment he saw her bristle at the sarcasm in his voice, but she didn't comment. "I never would have guessed more than half the stuff in here," she took a seat directly across from his desk and pulled out a copy of Magical Drafts and Potions. "I mean, who really thinks up all this stuff?"  
"Men and women who had an intimate understanding of plants and their relationship with each other."  
"Or people who were just really bored."  
Snape glanced up sharply, but Marian was laughing. "Just kidding," she said. "You really take this stuff seriously, don't you?"  
Snape snorted. "Of course I take it seriously. I am the Potions Master at this institution, a position that is coveted by many. Potions are my life."  
"What, no girlfriend?"  
Severus could feel himself going red with a combination of embarrassment and anger. " That is none of your concern," he replied in is iciest tone.  
"Geez, just asking."  
Time for a quick change of subject. "You said you read through the book?"  
"Yeah."  
"All of it?"  
She rolled her eyes. "I was under the impression that 'read through' meant I'd read the entire book."  
"And you understood it?" He didn't try and keep the disbelief out of his voice. There were first years who couldn't get passed the first chapter, and they had lived around the subject their entire lives.  
"Test me."  
The thought of ridding her voice of that annoying arrogance was pleasing, but before he could ask his question the first year class began filing in, each wearing the sullen face that all his students had. He didn't mind though. He was a professor, his students weren't supposed to like him. He was there to instruct them, and he would deal with their antipathy as long as they showed him the respect he deserved. Marian picked up her bag and moved to the back of the class and silently began setting up her cauldron. Snape shook his head and watched as his students took their seats. All of them looked nervous, which meant that they'd done something other than study for the day's class.   
Over the next two hours he watched his students stumble through a simple coloring potion. Most of the ingredients were powdered, so there was no need to worry about uniform chopping, or even skinning. For anyone with an inclination for potion brewing the class would have been dull in the extreme. The potion only contained ten ingredients, but still, half the class managed to make mistakes. He hadn't thought it possible, but it seemed a female version of Neville Longbottom had found her way into the class. Barely two minutes into the brewing and black smoke was spewing from her cauldron. Another student had managed to spill the concoction all over his robes, turning them (and most of the worktable and floor) a bright pink.  
Finally, it was time for testing and clean up. Those few students who had managed to avoid any major disasters over the course of the class got to try coloring various items. Most failed miserably.   
"I see that none of you took the time to study chapters twelve and thirteen as you were instructed on Friday. Since you seem to think you can breeze through this course without study, I will begin giving quizzes when it suits me. I also want summaries of each chapter we go through on my desk at the beginning of class."  
There was a collective groan, which he ignored. As far as he was concerned, they brought it on themselves. "For Wednesday read chapters fourteen and fifteen on the basics of preparing potion ingredients for more complex spells. I also want a parchment on my desk, along with your summaries, on the dangers of using ill-prepared ingredients, complete with examples of the calamities that can befall an unprepared brewer. Dismissed."  
The class filed out silently, but Marian remained. There was at least a fifteen-minute break in between classes, so he'd have to deal with her, or get her to leave. "I trust the lesson wasn't too strenuous."  
She looked up from the vial she was studying. "Oh, not at all. I was just wondering what they found so difficult about it," she poured a small amount of amber powder into the bubbling cauldron, cocked her head, and added a few more pinches.  
He'd often wondered that himself when he first started teaching, but he learned soon enough. "The same reason they fail in all their classes. Half the class refuses to pay attention, and of that half that does, only about a third actually understands."  
"The trick is to make the subject interesting," she put on her gloves and moved the potion onto a cooling stand. "I don't know if you noticed, but half the class was falling asleep while you were giving directions."  
Severus couldn't believe it. This woman was giving him advice on teaching. "The subject is supposed to be interesting enough on its own. I refuse to cater to the delights of children who want nothing more than to wave a wand around and chant a few words."  
She shrugged, and continued stirring the liquid. "Just trying to help," she stopped stirring and looked up at him. "So, how does this look?"  
Snape looked in the cauldron. The liquid inside was an opaque white with swirls of pearl. It was cooling, but remained thin. "Hold out your hand." She did so, and he spooned a small amount of the liquid and poured it on her hand. "Periwinkle blue," he said commandingly.  
She looked at her hand, and smiled. Her hand was slowly turning the color he'd demanded, down to the fingernails. "Cool," she added some more. "Burgundy."  
Snape looked from her changing hand to her face. She was completely engrossed in what was happening, smiling like a child. Very few of his students had ever had that kind of reaction to a properly prepared potion. Most simply expressed relief at being safe from his tongue, others were smug, especially if the potion was difficult. But awe...wonder... those were things missing from his students.  
"Does it work on anything?"  
"Yes. A very useful tool, especially when decorating."  
That caught her off guard. "Decorating?"  
"Yes. Decorating."  
Whatever she was going to reply was lost, because his fifth years took that moment to walk in. He glanced at the clock. No, they weren't early. "Are you planning on staying for this class as well?"  
She pulled out a piece of parchment. "Yeah, then it's transfigurations. Then lunch. Then...care of magical creatures."  
Snape thought. If Minerva kept to her usual schedule, she would be doing little more than watching the students write down notes. "Good luck." With that, he headed to the front of the class and began writing the directions for the fifth years on the board.

Marian fingered her bottle of coloration potion as she watched the last student file out of the class. Neville Longbottom. The poor boy looked like he was about to burst into tears. Only five people in the class had successfully completed the potion, and four of those five looked like they just ran a ten mile relay. "I was just thinking I know why your classes screwed up today."  
"Really?"  
She nodded. "It helps when you're not petrified of asking your professor for help. I don't think I've ever heard a grown man hurl that many insults at a class of sixteen year olds in my life," she pretended to think for a moment. "No, as a matter of fact, I haven't."  
Snape narrowed his eyes. "If your critique of my teaching style is finished-"  
"Actually, it's not. You beat your students down no matter what they do, and when you're not doing that, you sneer at them and their attempts. Maybe if you tried to be just a little more understanding, you might get better results, not to mention less accidents."  
Severus took a deep breath. She knew what he was thinking: How he taught his students wasn't any of her affairs. "I have had this position for over ten years, Ms. Elvbow," he said, making sure each word was as clear as possible. "You may find my teaching style harsh, but I find it effective."   
"Effective in making your students afraid of you," she could feel her temper rising. In fact, she'd wanted to slap him ever since he commented on how Neville seemed to be adding another potion to his 'already embarrassingly long' list of failures.  
"That fear serves me very well. When students like," he practically spat the word, "their professors, they start to believe that they can do or say anything."   
"Actually the kind of relationship I was thinking of involves mutual respect for all parties."  
Snape laughed. "Respect? Most of those children couldn't find their arses if they were using both hands and a map."  
"Well, now that we've established that, I'll think I'll head to transfigurations. Hopefully Professor McGonnagall isn't as aggravating as you," Marian grabbed her bag and headed away from the dungeons. She pulled out the parchment and examined it. She appeared as a little red dot in a maze of lines and boxes. Dumbledore had given it to her at breakfast. The class she needed to be at glowed green.  
"Where are you headed?"  
Marian jumped. Leaning against a wall was a blond boy from potions. "Um, yeah. Transfigurations. Professor Dumbledore gave me a map, but I'm still clueless."  
The blond smiled. "I'm headed that way, I'll show you."  
Marian smiled. "Thanks."  
"No problem. I'm Draco Malfoy."   
"Marian Elvbow."  
They walked up a long flight of stairs. "So you're the new student?"  
She laughed. "I don't know if I'd call myself a student. More like observer."  
"Fair enough. So, how do you like Hogwarts?"  
She cocked her head. "I don't know yet. I'm still trying to get used to all this. But, from what I've seen, I think I like it."  
Malfoy nodded. "I've heard that you're from the Muggle world. Is that true?"  
"Muggle? Oh, normal people. Yeah. I was raised with Muggles. In America, as a matter of fact."  
"So, you're parents are Muggles."  
_My parents could have been Dumbo and Puff the Magic Dragon for all I know._"Don't know. I'm an orphan."  
A looked passed his face, but it was gone before she could see it clearly. "Oh, I'm sorry."  
Marian forced a smile. "Don't' worry, I'm not."  
"Have you been sorted yet?"  
_Sorted?_ "Um, I don't think so? What is sorting?"  
Draco looked surprised. "Every student here gets sorted into four houses. Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor. I thought they'd done it by now."  
_I think you're a bit old for the sorting hat._ "Oh, that. Dumbledore said I was too old."  
Draco shrugged. "You should ask. Well, here we are."  
Marian looked up. She'd been so engrossed in their conversation that she hadn't noticed they'd stopped walking.

"Mr. Malfoy, you are almost five minutes late for class. Five points will be taken from Slytherin-"  
"Please, Professor McGonnagall, it was my fault," Marian jumped in. Hagrid had explained the point system to her when they went shopping. "Draco found me wandering around and escorted me here. His being late is entirely my fault."  
McGonnagall looked between the two of them. "Fine. This time you will not be docked. This time."  
Draco nodded and made his way to a seat near the front of the class while she settled into an unused desk. The class was copying an odd looking diagram off the board. Marian pulled out her book and started flipping through the pages. She'd seen something vaguely like it last night. Finally, near the end of the book she found it. It outlined the changes an animal went through during a transfiguration. The diagram on the board was much more intensive, and linked to several other diagrams spread across three more blackboards that she didn't recognize.  
"You're not expected to understand this, Ms. Elvbow," Professor McGonnagall said from above her. "This transfiguration is very advanced, and this class is only to show you what can be achieved."  
"Don't worry, I wasn't planning on trying anything today," Marian answered. "I was just comparing the two diagrams. That one," she pointed to the board, "Is a whole lot different than the one I've seen."  
McGonnagall nodded and walked back to the front of the class. "Today we will be transfiguring ordinary objects into animals. Each of you have your items. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that this is much more difficult than turning a parrot into a wineglass, as these items will create completely blank slates. You will be graded on how well you can create the animal and what characteristics you give it."  
Marian watched the students as they picked up their items. Some had glasses, cups, plates, and several other items that she couldn't identify. Neville Longbottom held up a glass and gold ball, stared at it wistfully, then placed it in front of him. She hoped it didn't get damaged.  
McGonnagall demonstrated, and after saying a few words the candlestick on her desk turned into a raven, but one that was frozen. She kept murmuring over the bird, and after a few moments it began to shake its head and puff its feathers lazily. It took a long look at the class before taking flight and wheeling around the room. _Whoa._

What the class managed as a whole to accomplish was significantly less than what McGonnagall managed to pull off with the exception of a few students. The brown haired girl, Hermione, created a miniature unicorn out of a small teapot, which stood prancing and rearing on her desk. The boy Dean made a griffin, which sat dejectedly on his desk no matter his attempts to animate it. Draco had created a snake out of a scarf, which was currently slithering, albeit stiffly, across the large table and staring at everyone with it's ruby eyes. Harry's creation was owl, snowy white and glistening. It hooted on occasion, but didn't move so much as a feather. Neville, poor, poor Neville, had managed to create a toad that remained stiff as a board. They were the lucky ones though. Some hadn't even managed to get their objects to do anything other than flop around their desks before settling back down.

McGonnagall walked around to each student, and even though she looked disappointed in some of them, she didn't yell, or point it out to the class. She simply gave instructions and advice on how to do better.

"Class dismissed," she said after assigning three chapters of homework. 

Thanks so much for reading this!!!!! Special candy coated thanks goes out to Cthulhu, Fate's Child, and Missy42 for their great reviews and suggestions!!!

See something you like, hate? Have suggestions? Please leave me a review so I can find out!!!!!!


	12. Sorting

            Marian looked around Dumbledore's office, listening to the drone of the wizards many gadgets. She remembered the small hovering creations that seemed to cover almost every available surface on her last visit, and it seemed that the number had increased. They bobbed and glittered as they moved, the brighter ones throwing rainbows across the room. 

            Unlike the first time she'd been in the office, all the paintings seemed to be in their proper place, and almost all of those were snoring happily. A few were reading books or studying what she was doing, but those were few and far between.

            In the two weeks since Marian had arrived at Hogwarts she'd more or less adjusted to the sight of objects floating in random classrooms or the odd singed student. She attended her classes dutifully, and even turned in the assignments on time. The first-year books weren't particularly difficult in her opinion, they were simply poorly written. For the first time since she earned her masters in English she thanked her professors for making her suffer through both James Joyce and Virginia Woolf, since the wizarding books she was currently dealing with were written in the same convoluted, wandering manner. Her prior experience helped.

            A lot.  

She remembered the dour look on Snape's face when he handed her back her first assignments on preparing potion ingredients. Her paper had been free of the large red comments that marked those of her classmates. She guessed that he'd looked forward to seeing what she was made of, and had apparently thought her less than what she was capable of. The fact that she'd smiled at him only seemed to increase his bad mood.

            "Hello," she muttered as she spied a tall, battered hat sitting in a corner. The poor thing looked like someone had rescued it from the bottom of a garbage pile. It was a dirty, spotted brown, with what looked like a poorly repaired slash across it.

            "Wonder what they use you for," she said to herself, turning the hat around slowly. Despite its appearance it looked like someone had at least attempted to repair it. Thankfully, it didn't smell. Smiling to herself, she placed the hat on her head. It was heavier than she would have expected. 

            _Here now, you're a new one aren't you?_

            The voice, old and gravely, was coming from _inside_ her head. 

            _Don't worry, I don't bite. Now let's see…_

It felt like someone was rummaging around in her mind, looking at some things and discarding others.

            _Intelligent, that's for sure. Loyal, that's always a good sign. Hmmm, scheming? No no no, that's not it. You don't scheme. Survive, yes, that's it. You're a survivor. Brave…perhaps, but only when you need to be. A lot of false bravado here… misdirection…ambitious, yes and no… but where should you go?_

**Dumbledore said I wouldn't be sorted.**

            _Oh, he did, did he? And yet here you are. Where would you find your friends…_

**Friends?**

            _ Haven't had many of those I see. Well, well, perhaps you don't belong anywhere at all…_

            Whoever was talking to her sounded confused, and she sighed in relief when the hat was removed.

            "Very seldom has the hat failed to sort someone into a house. I believe the last time was when I was a student, and that was some years ago."

            Dumbledore gently placed the hat back on its stand, and turned back to her. "The professors say that you are adjusting especially well to your new life here, Marian. Hagrid seems rather taken with you, and your talent with animals."

            Marian blushed. Talent her butt. Not that the horses weren't beautiful, but they would have done back flips for anyone if they had sugar cubes. "They just wanted more treats," she muttered.

            Dumbledore raised one snowy eyebrow. "Even Professor Snape has gone as far as to suggest that you be allowed to advance to the next level."

            She blinked. Snape? Give praise? And his tongue hadn't fallen out?

            "What do you think, my dear?"

            That snapped her out of the semi-daze she'd gone into. "I don't know. Mostly I think I've been cheating."

            "Cheating?"

            "I took Latin at college, and most of those spells are Latin." She frowned. " At least they look like it. It's just pronunciation and knowing how to fling a piece of wood around. And as for potions, I've lived alone for a long time, and if I didn't know how to follow a recipe I'd probably have died of food poisoning by now."

            For his part the old wizard didn't look the least chagrined. "And yet you seem to have an amazing capacity to learn and understand."

            She tapped the side of her head. "Photographic memory, medically tested and approved. Show me anything and it's stuck in here. Thankfully, it starts to fade if I don't use it."

            "You seem to be in a hurry to disprove your own talents, Marian."

             Marian deflated somewhat, unsure of how to answer. "Well, it's the truth," she finally muttered, floating over to a bookcase nestled in the corner. _Magical Mistakes, (Un)Forgettable Blunders in Wizarding History _caught her attention, and she picked it up. The tome was huge, almost the size of her torso and at least forty pounds. She sat it on a nearby stand and carefully opened the crackling pages.

            "The case of Egagora Bottlebeak, the lost Mugwump," she read aloud. "That's a real name?"

            Dumbledore stepped forward. "Yes, a rather interesting woman who served as Supreme Mugwump of the Wizard Gamont. She attempted to make an eternal youth potion, but managed to do something quite different."

            Marian scanned the table of contents. The story of Egagora went on for almost seventy five pages. "What happened to her?"

            The headmaster sighed. " No one knows. When the smoke cleared all that was found were her clothes and shoes," he reported sadly, despite his twinkling eyes. "It was a shame, she was quite the eccentric, I understand. It was rumored that her lover was a centaur."

            Dumbledore flipped a few pages until he came to a large sketch of a woman standing next to a unicorn. As she watched the image bowed, and smiling, jumped onto the animals back before disappearing into the nearby foliage. 

            "Needless to say, this drawing was done when she was _much _younger. What else does the book contain?"

            "Galloping Gallflies - the Infestation of Hogwarts 1609, Inter-dimensional Crossfire: The Two Snortingtons, Love Potions Amuck – Higgelby Huggins Attempt at Spreading Good Will…" Marian rattled off. "Told you, what I see, I remember."

            "Most impressive." Dumbledore placed the tome back on the shelf. "The reason I asked you here is because I would like for you to start taking second-year courses. Your tutors all agree that it would be best to continue challenging you. That is, if you agree."

            "Ms. Elvbow! Ms. Elvbow!"

            Marian stopped and turned around. Harry was running as fast as he could down the crowded hallway. She marveled again at how much he'd grown since she last saw him. The skinny little boy has definitely filled out considerably since the sixth grade.

            "Hey!" Marian gathered Harry into a tight hug, feeling odd that now her head barely came to his chin. "How's it going?"

            "Fine." Harry pulled out of the hug. "How've you been?"

            Marian started walking down the hall again. "Good. Dumbledore's decided to move me up to second-year. More books, more tutoring… the usual. You?"

            "Class," he answered. "Quidditch, more class." He smiled. 

            "Quidditch?"

            Harry's smile widened, and he grabbed her hand. "Come on, practice starts in fifteen minutes. You've enough time to grab a cloak and head out."

            Quidditch was something Marian would never have imagined. At first she'd taken out her new potions text and began studying while Harry and his teammates studied several large diagrams. 

Then they mounted their brooms.

She couldn't believe that they were allowed to fly dozens of feet in the air on brooms with nothing securing them, let alone with those bludger things chasing after them half the time, ready to brain anyone who was unaware. After the first half hour she'd grown used enough to the sight of the players doing death-defying dives that she no longer found herself cringing every minute and actually began enjoying herself.

            _Go Harry! _She thought to herself as Harry pulled up just short of  crashing into one of the tall towers, holding the snitch above his head. 

            Marian rubbed her hands together furiously, cursing the cold. She'd barely gotten used to the weather in London, now she was dealing with a place substantially colder. She checked her watch, and cursed. It was nearly five-thirty, which meant that if she didn't hurry she'd be late for her study session with Snape.

            "Harry! Harry!, Oh, crap." Marian started waving her arms furiously. After a few seconds her frantic movements caught his attention and he flew over. "Gotta go," she said breathlessly as she gathered the books and papers that were spread across the bench. "I'm gonna be late!"

            "Late?"

            "Snape… tutoring… almost time…" He caught the words and she twisted and turned, shoving things into her bag.

            She ran down the steep steps of the Quidditch towers and across the lawn at a dead sprint, hitching her skirt up above her knees and slinging her bag across her shoulders. If she hurried she could make it, she knew it.

________

            "I don't appreciate waiting, Ms. Elvbow."

            Severus took in Marian's wild hair and red cheeks with distaste. He didn't know what she'd been doing to work herself into such as state, but whatever it was, it wasn't what they were supposed to be doing.

            "It's just five minutes," the woman said as she swung her bag onto an empty table and began unpacking her supplies.

            Snape sneered. "Five minutes that could have been better spent doing something _other _than waiting for you to appear so we could begin. My time is very precious, Ms. Elvbow."

            "I'm sure it is," Marian muttered under her breath. "Students to fail, small animals to torture…"

            "If you're quite done with your ineffectual comeback," Snape interrupted, righting her cauldron, which was currently resting on its side. "We have already wasted nearly ten minutes. As this session is only an hour long, that leaves you with fifty minutes to prepare the required potion."

            Severus watched as the woman bit her tongue and kept her next comment to herself, though it was clear through the slamming of several different objects that she was upset by his remarks. He flicked his wand at the board, which was immediately covered with his sprawling script. "The method and ingredients are on the board, Ms. Elvbow. Despite the late start, you _should _be able to finish your potion in time, and copy the additional notes." With that he went back to his desk and started correcting the most recent failed attempts of his students to write proper essays.

            Twenty minutes later a loud pop and a menacing fizzle interrupted his thoughts. He looked up and saw Marian's cauldron overflowing with yellow smoke that smelled like licorice.

            "Don't breathe anything in!" he said, rushing over with wand at the ready. Before he could do anything she'd ran to the students cabinet and pulled out a vial full of powder.

            "_Don't_-!" he shouted, then paused. She tossed the powder into the cauldron and backed away, the sleeve of her robes covering mouth and nose. Immediately, the smoking stopped.

            Snape walked over and looked into the cauldron. The potion was now the proper color, though it was swirling quickly, a movement that began to slow as he watched. "What did you use?" 

            "Powdered nettle," Marian answered, the words muffled by her sleeve. "It has neutralizing properties, works best with crushed stinger beetles."

            "You didn't inhale anything, did you?"

            Marian shook her head. "I don't think so."

            Before she could protest Snape sat her in a chair and began feeling her throat. 

            "Hey, what the-"

            "You added the yew too soon," he said absently. "The heat was too high. Instead of a soothing balm you made a poison. If inhaled it will swell the lymph nodes and you'll choke to death."

            That effectively stopped whatever she was about to say. He pressed harder and she winced. There was some swelling then, but nothing to be worried about. 

            Snape rose and walked to a cabinet, pulling out a vial almost without looking. "Here," he said. "It's an anti-inflammatory. It should help with the tenderness."

            "Now," he said after she'd taken the potion. "What had your attention so rapt that you missed the most important step in this particular potion."

            "Noneya."

            Severus raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

            "Noneya," Marian repeated. 

            "And what does that cute Muggle phrase-"

            "It means None of ya business!"

            "Can you do anything other than yell like a five year old?" Severus smiled when Marian seemed to collapse in on herself and looked away guiltily. "It's nothing," she said quietly. "Just stupidity."

            "I'm glad we agree," Snape turned and headed back to his desk. "Now, if you will, you have a potion to finish."

Thank you guys so much for reading this! Special cherry pie thanks goes out to LadyCrow1313, popples, ditdot777, Dawnie, and readerw for their reviews J Extra special thanks goes to missy42 for beta-ing. THANKS!!!!

See something you like? Don't like? Something I screwed up on? Just want to say HI? Leave reviews and let me know what you think! I cant change it if I don't know what's wrong. Reviews will be placed on a shrine next to my computer for moral support. Flames will be eaten with soy sauce and rum.

Writegirl ^_~

PS. If you noticed I updated the first five chapters to get rid of some _blatant _spelling mistakes and other problems. For those of you who reviewed those chapters, my thanks still stands J


	13. You know what they say about dinner and ...

* * *

"You're a hard one to find, you know that?"

Marian looked up and found Harry Potter standing over her, wearing an expression of wry amusement. It had been nearly a week since the Quidditch practice, and she hadn't seen hide nor hair of him since then.

"It's not like I'm trying to hide," the woman muttered, closing a copy of _Magical Miscreants Throughout History._

Harry smiled and plunked down on the narrow bench across from her. His former teacher looked at him warily, then folded her hands primly on the wooden table. His smile slipped. "Have I done something?"

Marian jerked, then slid her hands off the table. "No! At least, nothing that I know of. It's these classes. They've got be started on second year texts, and there's still so much that I haven't read from first year, supplemental materials and what not." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "It's hell playing catch-up. I'm too old for this."

Harry laughed, the sound unchanged from his boyhood, with the exception of a little bass. "Don't worry, you'll do fine. Anyway, let us know, and Hermione'd probably role out all her notes that are packed up. She never throws anything away."

"Gods be praised," she muttered, scrubbing a hand through her hair. "So, what's up with you, lately? I've been hearing stories about you facing a darklord or something. What's that all about?"

Harry sighed and started in on his tale. After nearly an hour, he sat back. "So?"

Marian blinked, and whistled through her teeth. "Damn, and I thought I had it tough in school." She leaned across the wooden table. "So you're not like Jesus, or anything like that?"

"No!" A loud "SHHHHH!" met his outburst, and Harry leaned forward until his forehead was nearly touching hers. "At least, I hope not."

"The way the keep talking about the 'savior of the wizarding world', I was getting nervous. What would people think if they knew I'd failed the Messiah on his fifth grade English midterm?"

The two stared at each other in dead seriousness. Then the corner of Marian's mouth began to turn up, and Harry's shoulders shook the slightest bit. A moment later the two of them were laughing into their arms, trying to avoid the librarians anger.

Harry recovered first, fixing his glasses. "So, anything else you'd like to know?"

Marian looked around conspiratorially. "You weren't the one that put the Hop Weed in the soup last night, were you?"

The young wizard laughed, drawing an irritated look from Madam Pince. The night before some adventurous soul had snuck into the kitchens and placed an entire bag of Hop Weed in the minestrone soup. The result was the majority of the students and staff jumping about like jack rabbits while those not affected laughed. The single fact that neither Fred nor George had taken the soup was enough to paint them guilty in Harry's eyes. "No."

Marian raised one eyebrow. "But you know who did, don't you?"

It had never failed to surprise him in fifth grade, how easily she was able to ferret out the truth. "Maybe."

She reached across the table, grabbing his hands. "Come on! Please tell me?" She started to snicker. "I cant get the image of Snape jumping around like a demented Easter Bunny looking like murder out of my head!"

Harry joined her. That morning the potion's master had _promised _Harry's class, and every other if rumor held true, that he was personally going to oversee the punishment of the perpetrators. The sheer malice in his voice when issuing that threat was enough to make Harry hope that the twins were never caught. "A lot of people know who did it," he said finally. "Why don't you ask them?"

"Because they see an adult, and wont tell me squat!" Marian stood and walked around the table, falling to her knees before the surprised boy. "Please tell me, please?"

Harry looked around and saw that the redhead's antics had caught the attention of several people, some of whom were watching the avidly. "Fine!" he whispered fiercely. "Just get up off the floor!"

Marian stood as if nothing had happened, brushing off her robs and settling back in her chair. "All right, spill!"

"Fred and George Weasley," Harry muttered into the table, the words barely a breath of air.

"Those twins?"

He nodded. A brief and terrible thought passed through his head. This was actually Professor Snape, using polyjuice or some other spell to see who knew anything.

"Remind me to get them a Christmas card."

* * *

Severus Snape, twenty year member of the International Potion Masters Guild, considered by many to be the best maker of legal (and illegal) brews in the British Isles, fifteen year potion's master at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was furious. The more the thought about it, the further he went beyond furious and into the realm of murderous. And the source of that fury was staring at him squarely in the face, around Professor Sinastra's pointy head, and looking at him with an expression that could only be called….

Amusement.

The insufferable woman had the nerve to look puzzled at his expression of outrage. "What?" she asked, her voice as guileless as a child's. "I just complemented you on your jumping yesterday," she continued, twirling spaghetti on her fork. "Nothing to be ashamed of."

Snape ground his teeth. Last night's episode at dinner was something he'd rather not have happened, and failing that, have obliterated from his memory. With Hogwart's anti-apparation wards in place, he'd been reduced to _hopping _his way to his quarters in full few of the students and staff.

"Quite right, my dear boy," Dumbledore's voice carried over the table. "I don't believe I've had an evening that entertaining in some time. In fact," the headmaster continued, " I believe it was rather good for us all. We wizards usually take ourselves too seriously."

_That interfering, annoying, little- _Severus stopped himself. There was no use getting upset with the Headmaster, he'd discovered over the years. No matter what you called the old goat it went right by him, and afterwards you were offered a lemon drop and told how bad such high levels of angst were for the heart.

" Still," Snape countered, wondering how the rest of the table could miss the grinding of his teeth. "Using a controlled substance such as Hop Weed is dangerous. Need I remind you, _again_, that in large doses it works as a hallucinogenic."

"So that explains why I thought you looked like Tigger," the _woman _muttered to herself, then chewed thoughtfully on a stewed mushroom. As much as Severus wanted to know exactly what a Tigger was, he'd be damned to the abyss and back before he asked her.

"Be that as it may, Severus, no serious damage was done. I believe a firm talking to and a deduction of house points will be enough to deter the culprits when they're caught."

"The culprits!" Snape tightened his hand on his fork. "Is it obvious to anyone else that we have the Weasley twins to thank for this prank, and half the others that occur throughout the school?"

The slight nods that met his proclamation were hardly balm to his wounded pride. No matter what they thought, there were few professors outside himself that would do much to the meddling redheads.

They were too afraid of what the retaliation might be.

"Well, isn't someone in a state of high dungeon? It's two days to Halloween. They're just kids, for Christ sake. Calm down."

Severus could _hear _his bones creaking as he slowly turned his head to face the _woman _again. "A holiday is no excuse for destructive behavior." The words were clipped and careful, a tone that the rest of the professors recognized. Severus Snape was officially at the end of his tether, and dangerously close of loosing it entirely. "Hop Weed is highly regulated for very good reasons, none the least of which is it's narcotic properties. What if someone had been allergic? I highly doubt the severe stomach cramps and vomiting delivered on the poor soul before death would be worth the entertainment value. Do you?"

"But no one was allergic," Marian countered, leaning nearly across Pince's plate. " I don't even think you'd care either way. You're just embarrassed that we got to see you hopping through the Great Hall like a jackrabbit." She leaned back into her chair and took up her goblet. "You should grow up, _professor_, and take the embarrassment like a man."

Snape lost what little color he had. "What in the name of Merlin's festering forelocks-"

"Lady, professor, perhaps you should calm-"

"- do you know about taking anything 'like a man'?" Snape rode over the Headmaster's interruption. "Unless you have ballocks hidden somewhere under that robe, I suggest you shut your gob, before I do it for you."

Marian's eyes glittered. " I know enough to shut up and stop whining like a little bitch-"

"I didn't know you could stop being what you are!"

"Listen, jackass-"

"_Silencio!"_

Severus turned and stared dumbfounded at the headmaster, noting that Marian did the same, hand to her throat. It was then that he noticed the Great Hall was far quieter than usual, the students closest to the professor's table staring with open-mouthed astonishment. He couldn't believe it, he'd actually gotten into a shouting match with the gods cursed woman.

"There now," Dumbledore was saying as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Perhaps both of you should take some time to cool down, before things are said that will be regretted on both sides." He fixed both adults with a glare that cooled some of Snape's anger. The glare softened before being directed at the thirty or so students that were watching the exchange.

Severus curled his fingers into his palms until the nails were biting into the skin. They remained that way for long moments, refusing to listen to the simple directive to unfurl and go through the motions of eating for a while longer until he could slither off and cast a few Unforgivables on dust bunnies.

"Now, perhaps it would be best for us all to finish our dinner." With that, Dumbledore picked up his fork and knife and began cutting into his helping of ham, asking opinions all around on the virtues of soap and water to correct certain behavior.

Thus missing the bird that was flipped at his back.

How dare… what is she… how could… Severus couldn't even form the thoughts necessary to describe his anger, so he did the only thing he could.

He kicked her.

Marian's eyes bulged out of her head, and she swung around in the middle of an all out tirade, which slowed down once there was no sound. Infuriated even further, raised her hand, no doubt to repeat her gesture at the headmaster, and stared, stunned. Internally, Snape began laughing his head off, and felt his fingers uncurl enough to pick up his fork and continue eating. Watching someone getting their just deserts was always satisfying. Out of the corner of his eye he watched the woman passing one hand over the other several times slowly, then with speed. A choking sound escaped her, then she glared at the headmaster in fury.

The middle finger on her right had was missing.

* * *

Neither Harry, Ron, nor Hermione could believe what they were seeing. Watching Snape and Lockhart go at it, usually with Snape passing guarded comments and Lockhart completely oblivious was one thing. Watching Snape glare at someone with the kind of irritation and anger that was usually reserved for Harry himself was something else entirely. And unlike Lockhart, Ms. Elvbow was holding her own, if the alternating flushing and blanching of the professor was any indication.

"What do you think she's saying to him?" Ron asked when Snape froze, then leaned almost completely over Sinistra's plate.

Harry just shook his head and strained to listen to what was being said. All the other professors looked as if they might burst out laughing any second.

"-like a little bitch-"

"-what you are!"

_Those _words carried clearly, not just to the Gryffindor trio, but to those at the heads of the other tables. Now _they _were staring at the two adults as well.

"Uh-oh," Ron muttered as professor Dumbledore stepped into the argument. Both Snape and Ms. Elvbow looked like they wanted to say more, but the hand at Marian's throat, and the fact that she appeared to be shouting without sound, was enough.

"I wonder what they were saying."

Hermione shrugged. "Probably something that wasn't very nice."

Ron rolled his eyes. "I know that. I want to know what."

Harry ignored his friends and watched as Snape, looking too pleased by half, started eating again as Marian waved one hand over the other. She looked from the potions master to the headmaster several times, then stood.

Carefully, _too _carefully for Harry, she made her way from the professor's table and to the Ravenclaw table. She tapped on blond boys shoulder and after a few moments of gesturing got was she was looking for: two pieces of parchment and a quill.

Ron was thumping Harry hard on the shoulder. "Look at that," he said, eyes swinging from professor Snape eating seemingly unaware to Marian writing. When she was done with one she slapped the parchment down on the table, and started on another one. Perhaps five minutes went by before she was done. Harry noticed that by now, more than half the Great Hall was watching with curiosity.

With a satisfied smirk and a flourish, Marian folded both pieces of parchment and headed back to the professor's table. One she practically threw in Snape's plate, the other she handed to the Headmaster with a bow. That done, she walked down the center aisle of the Hall.

The letter she'd given to Snape was snatched almost before it landed, and hidden in the man's lap. Harry knew that anyone who wasn't sitting as close as he was wouldn't have been able to see it. The Headmaster however was not to shy. He unfolded the parchment and held it a bit away from his face, as though his glasses weren't up to the task of reading the letter. Dumbledore's laugh didn't slow her a bit. " I don't believe I'm quite that flexible, my dear," he called after her, and from where he was sitting Harry could see his eyes glittering maniacally. "But I believe it might be possible with a little practice, were I so inclined."

The Great Hall burst out laughing, followed by conversation as the students started in on desert. Harry was focused on the potions master, whose eyes were currently in his lap. The dark haired man blanched, then flushed, then blanched again before a puff of smoke curled up from his lap.


	14. Wizarding halloween

Punch.

Front kick, roundhouse kick, punch.

"That arrogant, self-centered…"

Spinning back-kick, jab.

"Overbearing, undeserving…"

Knife-hand block, jumping front kick.

"Greasy haired, megalomanaical… GIT!"

Marian glanced at the clock ticking quietly in the corner of her room. She'd been practicing for the better part of an hour, she was drenched in sweat, and she was still pissed off.

At least she had her finger back.

"Damn Dumbledore and his lemon drops anyway," she muttered. The memory of her meeting with the Headmaster that morning still rankled, making her wish she had a punching bag. Some contact with her kicks and punches would make them more effective.

The Headmaster had been entirely too cheerful when she skulked into his office after breakfast. While he " understood that Professor Snape had the singular ability to try the patience of even the calmest people" he insisted "that such infantile displays of temper on both your parts are to be avoided in future", lest he "be forced to find an alternate means of impressing my point on the both of you". Those words, coupled with his cheery disposition and sparkling eyes, made her nervous.

Very, very nervous.

In the end, she found herself defending her right to lambaste Snape with the only expression she could think of. "He started it."

Dumbledore smiled. "That's odd, because Severus was quite certain that the blame was entirely on you."

"He would be."

The old wizard sighed, making him look like a grandfather forced to settle an argument between two children. "Be that as it may, Mariam. If the two of you cannot control your tempers while in public I will be forced, quite reluctantly I assure you, to find ways of making sure you do not sink to the depths you reached last night again."

That was when he gave her a look that must have been perfected over the years on generations of unsuspecting children. An over the glasses, piercing look that made her feel like a five year old caught in a muddy shift with stolen candy.

Shaking herself free of her thoughts she looked at the smaller clock on her dresser. The hand was edging on 'potions class', which meant she had just enough time to have a cat-bath and rush to class.

* * *

Severus glared at the back of the woman's head as she exited the class, caught up in a stream of second year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, all of which seemed to be talking to her at once. When the door to his class finally slammed shut he heaved a sigh of relief. There. He'd made it. He'd gone through an entire class period without saying a single word to the woman.

Dumbledore would be so pleased.

"Damn the man and his sherbert lemons anyway," he sighed to the empty classroom. The Headmaster was suitably irritated with him during their meeting, insisting that Snape show "the restraint and decorum" that he was so well known for when it came to his newest pain in the arse. As it was, he barely managed to restrain himself from choking the woman when she raised her hand and had the _nerve _to correct his pronunciation while he lectured the class on the many uses for several different Asian plants. He'd wanted to choke her even more when he realized that she was right, he had mispronounced sakura.

It wasn't as if he spoke Japanese on a regular basis.

"Damnable, insufferable, _irritating_…"

"I would hope you're not thinking about me, Severus."

The dark-haired man turned around calmly, far too used to Albus's penchant for sneaking up on people for it to have much affect on him. The first few months of his teaching career had seen him nearly climbing up the walls every time the Headmaster decided to pop up unexpectedly.

"Not at all, Headmaster." Severus turned around and headed for his office.

"Good then. I see you survived class with Ms. Elvbow. I trust that it wasn't too taxing?"  
No matter what he said, Albus would make it sound less horrible than it actually had been. "Nothing too strenuous, Albus."

"Excellent!" Dumbledore walked over to the potion's master and lowered his voice. "It seems I have something rather pressing for you, something that I fear will put you in close contact with Ms. Elvbow for a small amount of time."

Snape stilled. "Yes, Headmaster?"

"I find it necessary to know the lady's pedigree, Severus. We need to know who she is, and why her parents found it necessary to drop her in the middle of Muggle nowhere. I've studied the information you, Harry, and Hermione gathered, but it isn't enough. I trust you know what I'm asking of you?"

Severus nodded. There were several potions that could reveal the parentage of a given person, some that could even trace the lineage back through generations. They were rare, and difficult to make. "Will you be wanting _retego atavus, _then?"

"I understand it will take some time to make."

Snape waved a hand absently. "Nearly a month of constant brewing, and another of waiting for the potion to mature."

"Two months it is then." Dumbledore turned, his festive orange and burnished cooper robes swirling around him. "That is, if it won't interfere too terrible with your schedule?"

Severus made a noncommittal noise, lost in his own thoughts. He was already cataloguing the ingredients he'd need. He had a good supply of dragon's blood, moon flowers, yew and amethyst on hand. Other ingredients, such as mandrake and sunsflower he could get from Madam Sprout. Then there was coaxix root, unicorn hair, and any number of other ingredients he'd have to make several trips into Diaggon for.

"As you will no doubt be needing your spare time for this, I will take over Ms. Elvbow's potions lessons. I understand she is a bright student, and it shouldn't be too hard."

_That _broke Severus from his thoughts. "You, Headmaster?"

Albus's eyes twinkled in the half light. "Yes, Severus. I am more than capable of teaching a second year course to a fully grown woman."

Internally Snape shivered. Despite the fact that Albus actually was more than capable of tutoring the woman, his idea of proper potions would likely be making ice-cream that would make the eater float, or some other such nonsense. "As you wish, Headmaster."

Dumbledore turned and headed for the door.

* * *

Marian blinked at the village that was spread out before her. When Harry had found her an hour ago and begged her to go with them to Hogsmeade, she hadn't known what to expect. Even Hermione's semi-lecture on the history of the wizarding village and Ron's excitement about Zonko's and Honeyduke's didn't do the place justice.

It was Saturday afternoon, Halloween day. For the first time in seven years, the holiday fell on a weekend. Without the stress of classes being that day or the next, it seemed everyone was enjoying the chance to let loose. Everyone she came across seemed full of holiday spirit, including the ghosts, who had taken to scaring unsuspecting students and teachers as they walked along the halls.

Halloween had always been her favorite holiday. What other time of year could you dress up as whatever you wanted and beg for candy? And at Hogwarts, it seemed Halloween was just as high on their list of holidays as it was on hers. At breakfast the excitement was almost palpable, an excitement that increased as noon rolled around and the trip into Hogsmead drew nearer. Her vision of a magical village was based primarily on the movie's she'd seen throughout her life. She expected a small village nestled in a little clearing, maybe a few shops, with the typical Halloween decorations scattered around.

The village of Hogsmead, though, put all of that to shame.

With the last leaves falling, bathing the streets and slant roofed buildings in red and gold, it looked like something out of a child's fantasy. The smell of baking pies and cookies was in the air, along with the sharp scent of autumn. A number of pumpkins floated lazily just above the crowd, grinning evilly. There were already small plates and cups of food and drink on doorsteps, and it seemed every cat was black and hissing.

And it wasn't even dark yet.

"It's brilliant, isn't it?" Harry said.

"Yeah," Mariam fought down the urge to start giggling like a school girl and run into the nearest shop, an urge that was far too strong at the moment.

"Too bad we're not allowed to stay after dark," Ron said. "That's when all the fun really starts."

A small hand went into hers, and the red-haired witch found herself being hauled towards one of the buildings by Hermione. "You two stay out here," the young witch ordered her friends. "Ms. Elvbow and I are going to do some early Christmas shopping. We'll meet you at the Three Broomsticks in an hour."

Marian let herself be dragged off by Harry's friend, amused that the girl was treating her like an old friend, then smiled ruefully to herself. She'd always looked young, and her short height meant the two of them stood eye-to-eye. She guessed it was easy to forget that you weren't dealing with an adult, especially when that adult acted like she was fifteen.

"Sorry about that," Hermione apologized when they were out of sight of the boys. "They've been hounding me all week about one thing or another. I wanted some fresh air."

"Sure, glad to be a help." Marian glanced at the window of a shop that looked like it sold bottled rainbows. "Does Harry still hyperventilate a little when he gets excited?"

Hermione laughed. "Like a six-year-old."

Marian laughed as Hermione did a fair impression of Harry in one of his bouts of excitement. "So, Harry tells me they've bumped you up to second year studies."

The woman grimaced. "Yeah. One month of study sessions and they feel I'm ready for round two." She shuddered dramatically. "I just barely got over having to touch dog slobber, now they want me to deal with raw toad entrails. Yeech."

"Well, I'm sure Harry's told you that I'm willing to help if you need it. Just let me know."

"Thanks, but don't you have classes of your own to worry about? I wouldn't want to drag you away from your own studies." She watched as Hermione blinked as if not comprehending what she'd just heard. And nearly staggered when she had her arms full of fifteen year old girl. "Wha- what's this for?" she asked, placing a hesitant hand on the girl's back.

Hermione pulled back, eyes shining. "You're the first person in years to _not _want my help on something." She gestured outside to the students milling around the shops. "Everyone else just takes my suggestions to help as being written in blood."

Marian smiled. So that was it. She'd heard enough in her wanderings through Hogwart's to know that Hermione was considered the brightest witch to attend the school in several decades. "They're too young to realize you're just being polite when you offer." And no doubt, if she did offer to help Ron or Harry a group would soon surround her, asking questions.

Hermione sighed. "You'd think they didn't have a brain."

"Most of them don't."

The two laughed, walking down the street until something caught the older woman's attention. "What's that?" It was Marian's turn to drag Hermione over to a display window where a glittering object about the size of her head was turning slowly in midair. At first she thought it was a jewel, but something wasn't right about it.

Hermione tisked. "It's a dragon's heart. I'm surprised they're showing it publicly like that. It's a restricted material."

The red-head looked up at the shop's sign. Billinge's Jewels was scrawled over what looked like a pile of gems that glittered in the sunlight. "Come on," Marian said, walking into the building.

Billinge's Jewels was almost completely deserted, except for a small witch who was hovering over one of the display cases. Rings, necklaces, bracelets, and unset stones were everywhere. Most of the stones were uncut, and for the most part unrecognizable.

"Welcome to Billinge's." A tall, heavy set man emerged from a curtained area, his robes immaculate and shining like his wares. " I'm Benjamin. How can I help you this All Hallows eve?"

_Cryptic much, _Marian thought to herself. "Um, I was wondering if I could get something appraised."

The man smiled. "Certainly. If you would come this way."

The two were lead over to a large table with a scale, and several other less obvious objects scattered around it. Benjamin held out his hand. "If you would."

Marian held out her necklace, feeling lost when the heavy stone left her fingers. Benjamin grunted slightly, then bounced the pendant in his hand a few times before laying it down in the center of a circle of runes. He tapped at the stone several times, each time saying an different incantation. Sparks of color flew off his wand, and once smoke hissed from a small section, but other than that, whatever he was doing seemed to have no effect. By the time he was done, the man's eyes fairly glowed.

"I was told it was a dragon's tear," Mariam said before he could open his mouth.

The jeweler licked his lips. "It is indeed. Perfect condition. No additives, no spell damage. The setting is rather old, perhaps three hundred years. A heirloom piece, then?"

"Something like that."

"Oh." Some of the light went out of his eyes.

The redhead leaned across the counter. "So, how much's it worth?"

The man swallowed. "Based on the quality of the stone, the precision of the cuts,the vibrancy of color...well over one million galleons. If you're interested in selling, I can arrange for it to be viewed by…"

Mariam stopped listening. One million galleons? She was wearing something around her neck that was worth… she did a quick estimate and was glad she was leaning against the counter, because she wasn't sure her legs would hold her up. Over four million pounds. Eight million US.

"Ms? Are you all right?"

"Fine! I'm fine." She held out her hand. "Anything else?"

For an instant she had the insane feeling that Benjamin was about to vault over the countertop and take off with her necklace. Carefully, regretfully, he dropped the stone in her palm. "It is extremely valuable, young lady. Perhaps a vault would be a safer place for something of this magnitude. Here at Billinge's we have several-"

"No," Mariam shook her head and placed the chain around her neck. Who knew that the thing was worth that much? "I feel safer keeping it close."

He nodded. "I hope that, should you ever think of selling, that you will keep my humble shop in mind."

_Boy, is he laying it on thick or what? _Still, it never hurt to be magnanimous. "If that day ever comes, I promise you'll be the first person I contact." She didn't add that it would be a cold day in Hell while the Pope rode a pogo stick if that day ever came, but it was the thought that counted.

* * *

Hello! Thanks for reading my stuff! Special warm chocolate chip cookie thanks goes out to everyone for their great reviews! 


	15. Running does a body good

"Why can't you have fur?"

Missy hissed in displeasure and slithered off the bed, weaving her way to the carpet in front of the fireplace.

"It was just a question," Marian muttered as she stretched. It was beyond strange, waking up next to a scaly, nine foot long python on cold mornings. Or even worse, having said python crawl under the covers to slither around her toes.

"I bet that snarky butthead would love it though," she said. At dinner, she and Professor Snape had tried to be civil. Tried, and succeeded only because of constant, cheery glances from the Headmaster that promised all kinds of retribution if they weren't.

The man had even made them sit next to each other, to show the students they were still on 'speaking terms'. They were, if you counted asking someone to pass the peas. "I bet he's the kind of man who'll outlive everyone, just to get a one up on them," she complained, tying her shoes. "Wouldn't even have the decency to die when he should."

Marian shook her head clear of that last thought. Master Hideo always said that starting the day with an unsettled mind would get you nowhere, and that last sentence was needlessly cruel. If her old sensei knew about it, he'd work her until her eyes popped out. She could hear the man now. _Sweat removes impurities from the mind as well as the body. Now, give me two hundred more situps for calling Luden-sensei a wrinkled- up old toad._

It was the morning after Halloween, and she was preparing for a run. She'd been slacking since coming to Hogwarts, and it was starting to show. The definition in her arms was starting to soften, her legs would burn just the slightest bit after running up and down the huge staircases.

_I'll have to find someplace to practice, _Marian thought as she bounded through the school. It was early morning, the sun hadn't even peeked over the horizon. A good run would be the start of her new routine. Her next step was finding a place to set up a few mats. There had to be a room somewhere in the castle that wasn't being used that she could turn into a makeshift dojo.

The redhead took a deep breath as she stepped through a side door and onto the grounds. The morning air was crisp, cold, already heavy with the bite of winter; everything the peculiar blue of pre-dawn. She wondered if it would snow before Thanksgiving, and if she could talk the house elves into some turkey and stuffing for the occasion. Even though she hadn't been in the States for four years, she liked to mark the day.

_And how many times a year can you justify cooking a twenty pound bird?_

Her plan had been to run around the perimeter of Hogwarts, but after looking at a map in _Hogwarts: A History, _she'd revised her plan. The grounds were larger than she'd first thought, and the school owned much of the forest as well. The craggy hills on the west side, though, were perfect. Marian started at a fairly leisurely pace, drinking in the quiet. If it weren't for the large castle looming over her, she could have been in the middle of completely wild lands. When she was in the hollows, nothing but the tallest of the castle's spires visible, it almost seemed she was the only person on earth.

She rounded Hagrid's hut and picked up the pace. The windows were all dark, but the chimney was still giving off its perpetual streamer of smoke. The Pegasi were standing in small groups, heads down. _Lazy bones, _she teased. The horse she'd taken a liking to, a tan stallion with a splash of white down his forehead, snorted when she passed.

The back of the cage edged the Forbidden Forest, and she continued to run along the border. It didn't look nearly as menacing in the early morning light. In fact, with the tall trees keeping undergrowth to a minimum, she wondered what could possibly hide in the open space. Nothing too large, she imagined. A part of Harry's story came back to her: the part about talking to a nine foot aramantula, which sounded just like a tarantula, only much, much larger, and the hundreds of dog sized spiders he had to fight through to escape.

_On second thought, I'll wait until Hagrid's around to go exploring._ She imagined the groundskeeper was big enough to scare most things off, and knowledgeable enough to keep her from getting into something she couldn't get out of.

She was still running along the forest edge when she spotted something black ahead of her in the bowl of a narrow valley, almost invisible in the morning mist. She slowed down, wondering if it was someone's cloak. "Poor kid's probably sweating bullets wondering where it went," she huffed as she got closer. "I wonder if…they…could…" she trailed off.

A hand was sticking out from beneath the cloak, the fingers buried in the soft soil.

"Jesus," she whispered, kneeling down. She rolled the person over, conscious of the pained groan, and stared. "Snape?"

The man was whiter than usual, paper white, his eyes half open and glazed. Despite the cold air he was sweating, hair plastered to his clammy forehead. "Professor, can you hear me?" she asked, forcing one eye open. She knew some first aid, but she feared this was far out of her league. As it was, without a light, she couldn't tell if his pupils were dilated or not. "Professor?" His pulse was thready and weak, breathing shallow. Poison? "It's me, Marian. Can you say anything?" Hell, at the moment she'd settle for all the snark he could muster.

Suddenly, his hand shot out, wrapping around her wrist with surprising strength. "I'll take that as a yes, then." She pried his hand free and knelt behind him, hands going to his armpits. "I'm gonna move you from the bushes, okay?" she said, trying to sound calm. You were supposed to be calm with someone who was injured, weren't you?

The task was easier said than done. The man was dead weight, and it took considerable effort to clear his shoes of the undergrowth. Every little movement seemed to pain him. The man actually _whimpered _when she set him down. "Still with me?" she asked, taking off her jacket and covering him with it after wrapping the edges of his cloak around him. His eyes were tracking her, at least. He needed medical attention, fast, and she didn't want to risk attracting any animals with a yell. She couldn't carry him, and Hagrid's place was only a quarter mile away from the top of the hill. "I'm gonna run to Hagrid's, all right," she said as she smoothed his hair away from his face. "I'll be right back."

She started up the hill at a dead run, glad for the rough paving stones set into the hillside. _Please don't die, you greasy bastard, _she thought over and over. _You _better _not die._ Marian crested the hill panting, muscles burning. She was halfway to the small building when she started yelling.

"Hagrid! Wake up!" she covered the rest of the ground in long strides, banging on his door with all her strength. "Hagrid!"

The door flew open, and the groundskeeper stepped outside, clothed only in a gray nightshirt. "Marian?" He looked around, confused. "What'er you-"

She squeezed past him and ripped a large blanket off the back of a chair. She grabbed his arm on the way out. "It's Snape," she wheezed, glad that the big man was letting himself be led out into the cold. "He's hurt."

The woman squeaked when Hagrid's hands clamped on her shoulders and whirled her around, his large face leaning down to hers. "Where is he?" he asked.

She pointed to the spot, and squeaked again when Hagrid picked her up and headed that way. She never would have imagined someone so big could move so fast. He didn't even bother with the hill's carved steps, instead sliding down the slick grass next to them and making it to the professor with one large bound.

"Off with ye, then!" he roared as he set her down, snatching the blanket out of her hands. She started, afraid the bellow was directed at her, until her eyes caught movement. Something with large feelers was moving back into the underbrush, and she could tell that it'd tried to drag the potion's master into the trees.

_Jumpin' Jesus, I'm never going in there._

When she turned back Hagrid had the smaller man wrapped in the blanket like a child. "You'll have ta climb on ta get back up tha' hill," he said. When she didn't move he half turned. "I can't carry the both a ya the same way."

It was years since Marian had had a piggy back ride, and never one that fast. The minute her hands locked around his neck the groundskeeper was off, taking the steps three at a time. Once they were at his hut, he let her down. "There's a jar o' green ashes next ta the fireplace," he explained. "Throw some in and say Poppy. Keep callin' her until she answers, and tell her I'm commin' with Snape."

The woman did as ordered. It took a long minute for the medical witch to answer, and as soon as she delivered the message Marian was running towards the infirmary. _He's alive, _she repeated to herself as she ran through the school. _He didn't die. Hagrid wouldn't have run like that for a corpse._

Marian burst into the infirmary. Hagrid was still there, speaking in low tones to the Headmaster while Madam Pomfrey hovered over the still form on one of the infirmary beds.

"Marian, my dear," Dumbledore said. " I'm glad you're finally here."

She walked over to a bed and sat down. Her lungs felt scorched, her legs watery, and at the moment throwing up sounded like a definite possibility. "Headmaster?" she panted.

"Hagrid was just telling me that you're the one who found Severus on the grounds and alerted him."

She glanced at the occupied bed. "What happened?"

"Spider bite, it appears," the Headmaster explained. "Aramantula venom. Not lethal, but rather nasty." He smiled consolingly. "Severus is perfectly all right. Poppy has already introduced the anti-venom. A day's bed-rest, and Severus will be right as rain."

The redhead looked to the potion's master. His heavy cloak was gone, a large, white bandage wrapped around his left arm. His color did look a little better, pasty without being deathly pale. She flopped onto a bed, fists resting against her forehead as she waited for her heartbeat to slow down. She hadn't been too late then. He would be all right.

* * *

Severus woke up slowly. Sounds came to him first, muffled voices, the rustle of bedclothes. He groaned, sitting up even as his muscles tried to clench against the movement. His vision was still fuzzed around the edges, but he would recognize the stone room anywhere. He was in a private room in the Hogwarts infirmary.

The potion's master lifted his arm, frowning at the heavy bandages. He could still feel the Dark Mark beneath them, pulsing like a black boil beneath his skin. He had a vivid memory of trying to rip the offending skin away just a few hours ago.

"Glad to see you're up and about."

Severus turned towards the door. Madam Pomfrey walked into the room, a steaming cup in hand. "The changes you made to the potion appear to be working."

The potion's master grunted as he took the mug. "It still doesn't deal with the fuzziness." For years, he'd been working on a potion to counteract the affects of the Cruciatus curse. His most recent attempt was the only reason he was able to sit up at all. "How did I get here?" His last memory was of stumbling at the edge of the Forbidden Forest and being unable to stand up.

Pomfrey cast a diagnostic net around the man, nodding in approval. "Ms. Elvbow found you on her morning run. Nearly ran herself to death making sure you were all right." She manipulated the net with her wand. "Most of the nerve damage is repaired. Your fingers might give you trouble for a few more hours, and your eyes should repair themselves by Monday."

Which meant he'd have to schedule a study period instead of the brewing he'd planned for. He frowned. "Elvbow found me?"

"Took a morning run. Nearly tripped over you, the way I hear it." She poked his hand with her wand. "She saved your life."

That was the last thing he wanted to hear. "I need to speak with the Headmaster," he told her, collecting his thoughts. The Dark Lord and Lucius were up to something, and they needed to figure out what.

* * *

Marian was jumping rope in her room. It was nearly lunch time, which meant she should be hopping in the shower to rinse off the worst of the sweat, but she wasn't. She kept jumping: twice on one foot, then the other, then three jumps together, like she had for the last hour and a half.

She'd tried studying, but her mind kept drifting back to the potion's master, deathly pale, looking like he'd been dropped there and left to die. Dumbledore told her at breakfast that, judging from the herbs he was carrying, that he ran afoul of an aramantula while doing some early morning gathering. _See, it wasn't you this time. _He also asked her not to worry the students by telling them of the professor's mishap.

The redhead dropped the twisted bit of multicolored rope (amazing what house elves could find when you asked) and stood rubbing sweat-slicked arms against the sudden chill. Her hair hung in a wet tangle around her face, and the dark, spaghetti-strapped shirt she wore was drenched front and back.

"_Thhhaaat'sssss not hhhelping, you know."_

The redhead ignored the syllabic hiss. Missy was curled in the center of her bed, head resting on her coils.

"And you're the authority on the human psyche?" Marian panted, thinking of what to do next. Pushups. Pushups were just what she needed.

"_Thhhhaaat won't eithhher."_ Missy watched the human with a reptilian sigh as she started working herself more. Marian had returned from breakfast and tried to study. After looking at the same page for half an hour she'd tried meditating. After that, it was exercise, which was what she'd been doing for hours now. She'd seen the human like this a few times before, usually in the middle of the night, never in full daylight. The python flicked out her tongue. Sweat was rank on the air despite the open windows, and it took two flicks to decipher the smells. Anger, old hurt, and barely contained fear. _Silly child, _the animal thought, blinking lazily.

"Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five-"

Marian paused when someone knocked on the door. Maybe she could pretend she wasn't there. "Twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight," she continued, quieter.

The person knocked again, this time more insistently, and she jumped up. She wiped at the sweat on her forehead before opening the door, and stared.

Professor Snape was standing there, still pale, eyes tight with strain. "Shouldn't you be in the infirmary?"

"Madam Pomfrey released me a few minutes ago." He held out her jacket. "I believe this is yours."

"Thanks," she took the coat, frowning when she saw the slight tremble in his fingers. "Are you sure she let you out, or did you escape?" It was meant as a light hearted jab, but had the opposite affect.

Severus drew himself up to his full height. "I assure you I need not _escape _from anywhere." He turned on his heel.

"You should take someone with you next time," she called after him. "That way an aramantula won't sneak up on you."

"What?"

"Aramantula," she repeated. "You know, ruddy big spider, paralyzing venom. What bit you this morning."

For a moment, she had the uncomfortable sensation that the man was staring through the back of her head. Then, "I'll remember that, Ms. Elvbow." He left without another word.

"Okay. Strange much," she said to herself as she closed the door.

* * *

_Blood._

_It pooled around the small body, turned bits of shattered glass into jagged rubies. A thin veil of steam wafted from it, curled around the pale girl staring up at the sky._

_Two orderlies and a nurse dashed past her. One of the men used a shoe to clear the remains of glass and twisted metal so the nurse could climb over._

_"What did you do!"_

_Hands whirled her around, and she stared up into the face of orderly Burke. "I don't… I didn't…" she stammered, trying to turn to get a look at Lucy. She told her to leave her alone. She'd told her…_

_"Come on, Marian." Nurse McKenzie said gently, leading her away from the window. "That's right. We'll get this figured out."_

_She looked back again, and stopped. Lucy's blonde hair was black._

_When she turned around they were in a long, narrow hallway, the doors lining either side numbered._

_"No!"_

_The twelve year old tried to run, but Burke was faster. In one move her arms were trapped at her sides and she was lifted. She kicked and flailed, but couldn't free herself. Dumbledore turned the lock in one of the doors, and before she could do anything the girl was shoved into the room, the door slammed behind her. _

_"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" she yelled at the door, but she knew the padding didn't let anything but the slightest whisper out. She backed into a corner, legs drawn up to her chest, and waited. _They _would be coming soon. They always bothered her more when she was alone._

Marian woke up curled around a pillow. The sun was down and her windows were open, letting in the frigid night air. Missy had wedged herself tight in the curve of her body, dark eyes glittering.

"Sorry," the redhead said before the snake could say anything. She sat up and her eyes widened. She was _sore. _She limped over to the windows and closed them. Almost immediately the heat from the fire filled the room, making it toasty warm.

"Better, runt?"

Missy didn't reply, and she went to the bathroom. The clock was edging on dinnertime, and she still needed a shower.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Special gingerbread men thanks goes out to LadyCrow1313, SithelfJen, Delphine Pryde, rankokun alpha, Popples, Almadynis, speacalphred, Keirin, and missy 42 for their great reviews! I love you guys :mental hugs:

Like something, hate something, see a place where I screwed up big time... Leave a review! All reviews are placed on a shrine near my computer for moral support. Flames will be eaten with soysauce and rum :)


End file.
